Sherlock, John, and The Doctor: Series Two
by HelenaHermione
Summary: Sherlock, John, Rose and the newly regenerated 10th Doctor crash-land on the Powell Estate on Christmas Eve, the start of the 2nd series of their adventures together. Will Sherlock and John stay together and continue traveling with the 10th Doctor and Rose? And what's up with Captain Jack, Torchwood, and the mysterious Moriarty? Mycroft/Lestrade, danger, and canon changes in store.
1. The Invasion Begins

Story cover image: Police box, British public call telephone © by artbalitskiy/Fotolia

Hello, and welcome to Series Two of Sherlock, John, and the Doctor. For those of you who read Series One, welcome back, and for those of you checking this out for the first time, this is Series Two of Doctor Who with Sherlock, John, and everyone in their orbit getting involved in the Doctor's adventures. So here we go with the Christmas Invasion!

* * *

Sherlock, John, and Rose were practically knocked out by the TARDIS's rough landing on the Powell Estate on Christmas Eve. It took a couple minutes for them to recover while the newly regenerated 10th Doctor staggered out and greeted a confused Jackie Tyler and Mickey Smith before he passed out right in Mickey's arms.

However, once he had regained enough of his senses, Dr. John Watson sprang into action, ordering Mickey to help him take the Doctor up to Jackie's flat. He was still riding the adrenaline high he had received helping out the 9th Doctor on the Gamestation while people were dying all around them from the Daleks.

It had been a horrible experience, the worst of his life even fighting in Afghanistan, but he was still energized by it, nonetheless. One of those paradoxes in his confusing life, he wouldn't be able to sleep a wink tonight, especially thinking about what had almost happened to Rose and Sherlock.

And maybe he would have a nightmare or two of being stripped naked on What Not to Wear next to Captain Jack Harkness, who apparently wasn't dead and had been brought back to life, according to Sherlock. John was a bit shocked by that and wondering why they had left Captain Jack behind and how his future self, Future Jack, had wound up saving their lives in Cardiff when the Rift was acting up. It didn't make sense, or maybe it would if John could get to the bottom of it.

Rose explained the situation as best she could to Jackie and Mickey and pitched in to help, though she was still overwhelmed by the Doctor's regeneration as well. It had been a terrible day or two for her, being trapped on The Weakest Link, then kidnapped by Daleks, threatened with annihilation, tricked into going back to Earth along with Sherlock, arguing with her family, trying to pry open the TARDIS, and then whatever the hell happened to her and Sherlock and now the Doctor had changed…and it was Christmas Eve. Ugh, an absolute nightmare.

John turned to Sherlock Holmes, strolling out of the TARDIS with his mobile in hand. Sherlock had also grabbed his laptop and John's medical kit. Despite having been a part of Bad Wolf with Rose and being stuck on Big Brother with the Doctor earlier, Sherlock appeared none the worse for wear, though there was a certain glow about him.

Maybe it was just the love that John felt for him, maybe it was an aftereffect of Bad Wolf, maybe it was Sherlock's excitement at having witnessed an actual regeneration, or maybe it was this new adventure that they were setting out upon with this new Doctor. Sherlock was always rejuvenated and excited, aroused, too, usually, whenever something popped up to relieve his boredom.

It used to be just mysteries, but now traveling with the Doctor had become Sherlock's drug of choice, for lack of a better term, that thrill and high of adventure. John wasn't always so keen on such dangerous adventures, but Sherlock pulled him along and they had fallen in love in the midst of all this.

And John couldn't abandon his friends, the Doctor, Rose, and even Captain Jack, too. They had become a tight-knit family, and though John might have thought about leaving someday while Sherlock would prefer to travel with the Doctor forever…that was still something that had to be worked out between them.

* * *

"I need all of the UNIT files they've got on the Doctor's past regenerations, medical and otherwise, and I might need some more supplies." John started to tell Sherlock.

"Got it. Texting my brother to bring over the information and some equipment." Sherlock said, his fingers flitting across his mobile's keyboard. "Also texted Ms. Hudson to bring over some supper. I don't think Ms. Tyler was expecting company."

"Certainly not. I haven't got a thing in the cupboard, not for all of you." Jackie said, looking around. "Is Ms. Hudson good?"

"The best. You'll be pleased with her cooking." Sherlock smiled. "She's our landlady, but a friend foremost as well."

"Oh, that's good, then." Jackie nodded, a little satisfied.

"Oh, Molly!" John said, turning back to Sherlock. "Text her as well, please, I could use some assistance if there's any trouble."

"Can't forget about Molly." Mickey nodded. "She's been forgotten about enough, like me."

"Got it, will do." Sherlock said, tapping on his keyboard. "Should I add Lestrade?"

"Might as well, though would he come with your brother?" John asked.

"Probably. I think they're an item now, as the phrase goes." Sherlock said.

"How many people are coming to my flat?" Jackie asked. "I haven't got room for everybody!"

"Uh, counting all of us, including the Doctor, I think that makes ten. Eleven if Anthea comes as well. Better tell Ms. Hudson to bring a lot of food. Just in case." Sherlock said, his fingers flying.

Jackie groaned and complained about the crowding, but she accepted it well enough. They got the Doctor settled down in one of the bedrooms in Jackie's flat, John doing a quick examination of the Time Lord with his limited supplies as Sherlock researched the old files he had on his laptop from the first time they heard about the Doctor.

"No aspirin!" Sherlock shouted at John.

"Yes, I remember that." John told him.

* * *

Jackie, Rose, and Mickey hung out together, talking quietly, and then the doorbell shortly rang. Jackie answered, glaring at Mycroft Holmes standing on her doorstep with his assistant Anthea and Greg Lestrade standing just behind him. Between the three of them, they had carried some medical supplies and a folder of files.

"Hello, Ms. Tyler." Mycroft smiled, bowing his head and holding out his hand. "It's so nice to meet you."

Mickey stiffened, remembering the last time he had seen Mycroft face to face when the man had interrogated and tried to recruit him at the same time. Jackie grimaced as she gripped Mycroft's hand and shook it as hard as she could.

"Can't say the same, I'm afraid. I've heard all about you, Mycroft Holmes." She nodded at the others. "Detective Inspector Lestrade, Anthea, hello again. Welcome back."

Rose looked down, embarrassed with the way her mum was acting. Admittedly Mycroft was tough, but he could be a good person as well. She nodded and waved at Mycroft, Lestrade, and Anthea, not really feeling like talking.

"Hello," Anthea said, simply waving at Jackie and Rose before ignoring them for a moment as a bit of old, forgotten business.

Lestrade told Jackie, "I'm sorry about all of this mess. Sorry about last time we met, too. Didn't know what was going on."

"It's all right, I suppose." Jackie sighed and stepped back, allowing them entry. "Welcome to my flat. It's not much, but it's home."

"A nice place. Have you redecorated?" Mycroft asked as he and the others entered, bringing in all of their gear. Mickey and Rose helped out.

"You would know, Big Brother." Sherlock remarked, looking up from his laptop. "Have you got the stuff?"

"Just like you ordered." Lestrade said.

John paused his examination of the Doctor to look over the medical supplies and warmly greet Lestrade and Mycroft. He also waved at Anthea, who waved back at him.

Rose went off to check on the Doctor with no one else watching him. Sherlock joined the others, snatching the files away from Mycroft and browsing through them as he coolly, yet cordially greeted Mycroft, Lestrade, and Anthea.

Admittedly Sherlock's relationship with his brother had improved over the last few months, especially with the scare that Mycroft had gotten when he seemed to have been hypnotized. Which reminded Sherlock of the hypothesis Mycroft had come up with as to why or how he had been so hypnotized.

"Have you gotten any closer to finding out more about Moriarty?" Sherlock asked Mycroft and Lestrade. "Do you have any clues as to who he is, alien or human? Or are you still tied to the Master theory?"

"What Master theory?" John asked, looking up at Sherlock. "Are we talking about the Master, the Time Lord who tangled with the Doctor and UNIT in the past?"

"The very same person." Sherlock said, turning to John. "The methods were recognized by the Doctor, even if he didn't want to admit them at the time. Mycroft has been researching, and he thought such hypnosis fit the Master's M.O. in the past."

"God, that would be a nightmare." John said, remembering all of the stories.

"There's a very large criminal network under Moriarty's umbrella." Mycroft said. "Lestrade has been helping me figure out all the strands and block such activity. I still haven't found the leech or spider at the center of the web, but we're getting close. As to who that person is, alien or human or the Master even…well, I wouldn't discredit the theory that there's more to this person or network than meets the eye."

"No solid proof, in other words." Sherlock said.

"We're getting there, one of these days, Sherlock." Lestrade huffed, annoyed. "It would help if you were around to pick on some of these strands. We have a few leads-"

"Not right now." Sherlock said, shaking his head. "We're busy at the moment, after all, dealing with the Doctor."

"Yes, always the Doctor." Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Sherlock, if I had known you would get so wrapped up into him, I never would have sent you those files in the first place."

"Well, I'm certainly glad you did. Thank you very much." Sherlock told his brother.

* * *

At that moment, the doorbell rang again, and Molly and Ms. Hudson came in, carrying bag after bag of food, flabbergasting Jackie.

"Hello, Sherlock, John!" Ms. Hudson cried, hugging her boys. "And Lestrade and Mycroft too! The rest is in the car." She told the others in general as they greeted her. "This is all I could bring on such short notice for so many guests! Oh, what a lovely holiday this has turned out to be, all of us together again! Where is that Captain Jack? He still owes me a kiss." Ms. Hudson said, patting her hair down.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Ms. Hudson, but we had to leave Captain Jack behind." John told her.

"Oh, bollocks. Just when I was getting my hopes up." Ms. Hudson sighed.

"Hello, Molly," Mickey smiled, hugging his friend he met on the way to Cardiff.

"Hi, Mickey! How's it going?" Molly asked him, and they started chatting about their lives.

"This is all you could bring? It's enough to feed an army!" Jackie cried, facing Ms. Hudson.

"Well, you can never have too much food, especially with so many people." Ms. Hudson remarked, juggling her bags. "Can you give me a hand please? Sorry to intrude like this."

"All right, I'll help. I think my gran would have liked you." Jackie said, begrudgingly smiling as she grabbed a couple of Ms. Hudson's bags. "The kitchen is this way, come on, let's set up some of this stuff."

"Good, thanks. Careful with the whiskey!" Ms. Hudson called out.

"Whiskey? Now that's more like it!" Jackie said as she and Ms. Hudson both laughed, Molly soon following them to the kitchen to drop off bags.

"Oh dear, this won't end well." John murmured.

Lestrade, Anthea, Mickey, Mycroft and Sherlock went downstairs to fetch the rest of the bags while John returned to monitoring the Doctor with Rose by his side. Rose glanced up when John came back into the room, then looked away as he checked the Doctor's vitals once more.

"Sure you don't want to…" John hesitated, not certain what to say to Rose. "Go out there or something?"

"It's all right. I'm staying here." Rose said.

"I'm sorry about everything that's happened, but that doesn't mean you should lock yourself up either." John said. "I mean, it's Christmas Eve and we're back home with our friends and family, safe and sound. The Doctor is fine enough, it's just that he hasn't woken up."

"Why hasn't he?" Rose asked.

"Not quite sure." John said. "He's stable enough. His vital signs are normal. Maybe his body is just resting after the strain he's been through. I've been checking all the UNIT logs, and the last two times they witnessed a regeneration, he was out like a light for several hours and then just woke up, no reason really, no prompting necessary. Pretty soon he was back in action, dealing with another threat in his own unique way."

"That's a relief, I suppose." Rose sighed. "I'm just worried about him, that's all, the way he is now and how he's changed. Do you think he still…likes us, I suppose? That he hasn't changed too dramatically?"

"I'm sure he does. He's still the same Doctor, just a little different." John said.

Rose nodded, a little satisfied, and she soon left the Doctor's bedside. Molly came into the room, was apprised of the situation by John, and helped John run some tests and look through files.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lestrade, Anthea, Mickey, Mycroft and Sherlock returned with the rest of the bags as Mycroft apologized to Mickey for having arrested and interrogated him several months earlier, mollifying the young man as much as he could.

Ms. Hudson and Jackie were already celebrating Christmas Eve, eating, chatting, and drinking as they set out the spread, and soon the others joined in. Within an hour, Lestrade, Anthea, Mickey, Mycroft, Sherlock, Ms. Hudson, Jackie and even Rose were eating, drinking, chatting and carousing with a couple plates and non-alcoholic beverages passed over to John and Molly in the Doctor's room.

"Oh, by the way, Mycroft, congratulations on getting Harriet Jones elected prime minister." Sherlock saluted his brother. "That's a real coup for you."

"Think nothing of it, Ms. Jones and the British people did all the rest." Mycroft remarked. "I'm certainly glad she has done so well, of course, thanks in part to my tutelage. Hopefully that Guinevere One space probe will also be a success, too. I doubt it will do much for space exploration, but now at least we have our own space probe in the sky."

Sherlock laughed and they chatted a little bit about the space probe and Harriet Jones before they went back to their own celebration. Ms. Hudson was reminiscing about the boys she had kissed in the past while Jackie shared her own saucy tales, causing them both to laugh.

Lestrade and Mycroft were making out in the corner while Anthea sent out some lurid messages, giggling as she texted. Rose rolled her eyes at the mess, but she laughed as well when Mickey started acting up and joking around.

She started chatting about their TARDIS adventures with Sherlock piping up and adding in his own anecdotes, causing Mickey to groan. John checked in with everybody, kissed Sherlock, and talked a little bit before returning to the Doctor's room. Then Molly was free to come out and chat with everybody.

"His name is Jim, lovely man." Molly told Mickey. "Met him in Cardiff after that—Riftquake, I suppose you could call it? Anyway, great bloke, very considerate and modest."

"That's nice. What does he do?" Mickey asked.

Molly shrugged. "He doesn't talk much about himself. General stuff, I suppose. I think he mentioned something about being a contractor? Anyway, he's great, love him." She blushed.

"Do I hear wedding bells ringing?" Sherlock asked.

"Shut up." Molly laughed, punching him lightly on the arm.

Christmas music was playing loudly on the radio and Sherlock shook his head, annoyed with that sort of drivel. But one song kept playing over and over again and Sherlock suddenly found himself humming along, memorizing the lyrics and melody.

"When I woke up today and the world seemed a restless place, it could have been that way for me." Sherlock half sang in a low voice.

* * *

"Hey, we need some decorations in here!" Mickey said at one point. "There's a midnight Christmas market down the road. Anyone want to come with me, get a tree and some decorations?"

Rose hesitated, but finally she said, "All right, I'll join you."

"Me, too." Sherlock said, jumping up from his seat.

He was itching to get out of the flat and stroll around for a bit. It was starting to get stuffy, noisy, and annoying with so many people here. He was starting to get bored and wanted to explore for a bit, maybe travel once more. Of course, the Doctor was knocked out, so that was out of the question for now.

"Anthea, would you be so kind?" Mycroft asked, looking up from where he was snogging Lestrade.

Anthea rolled her eyes, but said, "All right, boss, I'll join them."

"Good. Pick out a good Christmas tree, the best!" Mycroft shouted after her before he returned to snogging Lestrade.

Ms. Hudson and Jackie added their own demands and requests to Rose, Mickey, Sherlock and Anthea as Molly and John waved good-bye and blew kisses from their post by the Doctor's bedside. Sherlock waved good-bye and blew a kiss back to John as well as he left with the others.

They went out onto the streets, Rose, Mickey, and Sherlock chatting with each other while Anthea mostly texted and added in a few candid, but bored remarks of her own. They reached the midnight Christmas marketplace and split apart, Sherlock browsing decorations, Anthea examining the Christmas trees, and Rose and Mickey strolling together, listening to the band and chatting.

Suddenly, the band turned murderous and started firing and blasting into the crowd. That really woke Sherlock and Anthea right up and they rushed around, reuniting with Rose and Mickey as they called on Mycroft and Lestrade and told them what was going on while evacuating the scene in a taxi.

Mycroft and Lestrade got to work, calling on emergency response teams to convene on the scene as the others nervously watched and listened to what was going on. John called Sherlock to check up on him and Jackie got a call from her friend Bev, whom she had to reassure that everything was all right before hanging up to call Rose.

Suddenly the doorbell rang and they nervously looked up as John went to answer the door, prepared for anything to jump out at him. Instead, all he found was a Christmas tree left on their doorstep.

"Hello?" John asked, looking around the hallway outside.

"John, what is it?" Sherlock asked over the mobile.

"It's a Christmas tree." John said, examining the tree, which looked and felt like it was made of hard, sharp material. "Did any of you send-"

"No, definitely not." Anthea said, leaning over toward Sherlock inside the taxi cab, hoping she would be heard over the mobile. "I didn't get the chance to purchase and send out a Christmas tree before we were attacked."

"John, do not trust the Christmas tree. It could be from anyone or anything." Sherlock urged.

"I can't believe we're getting paranoid over a Christmas tree." Mickey said. "This is crazy."

"But it makes perfect sense. Those people or aliens disguised themselves as a Santa Clause band. What could be more inconspicuous than a Christmas tree this time of year?" Rose said, worried they were coming after the Doctor.

* * *

Back at Jackie's flat, John quickly retreated from the Christmas tree and shut the front door. "It could be a trap." He warned the others inside.

Suddenly, there was a rumbling, whirring sound from outside, and something was pounding on the front door. "Definitely a trap!" John cried out, trying to bar the door as the others panicked, trying to find shelter.

"No kidding." Mycroft said.

Lestrade and Mycroft called for help on their mobiles, Jackie and Ms. Hudson started to shove furniture around to help John bar the door, as Molly nervously stuck to her post by the Doctor's bedside. Now the tree was ripping through the front door and the furniture in the way.

"Oh, no, it's ruining everything!" Jackie cried out.

"Stand clear!" Lestrade said, getting out his gun.

"Wait a minute!" John cried, trying to get Lestrade to lower his gun. "What if the bullet ricochets? That thing is solidly built like armor, look how it ripped through the door!"

"Oh, bollocks." Lestrade muttered, lowering his weapon.

"Nice try." Mycroft told his lover.

Now they were trying to bash and knock out the Christmas tree advancing towards them as Rose, Sherlock, Mickey and Anthea returned. The quartet managed to shove their way into the flat and avoid the Christmas tree, slipping past it to join the others.

They tried to keep the Christmas tree out of the Doctor's room, knowing he was its ultimate target. But the Christmas tree kept advancing, forcing them all to pile into the Doctor's room, surrounding the bed to protect him.

"Well, this is an ignominious end." Mycroft muttered. "Slashed to death by a Christmas tree."

"How are we supposed to stop this thing?!" Ms. Hudson cried, afraid.

"We need the Doctor!" Sherlock shouted.

Suddenly, Rose leaned over to the Doctor, placed the sonic screwdriver in his hands, pleaded for help and he woke right up. He blasted the Christmas tree with a sonic vibration from his screwdriver, knocking out its remote control.

"I can't believe that little device worked and my gun wouldn't have!" Lestrade said.

"Not everything is solved by violence." Mycroft murmured. "Sometimes love and careful attention is required."

"We could have used the sonic screwdriver to turn that thing off?" John asked. "Why didn't we think of that before?"

"Blast it, this is exactly why I need a sonic screwdriver of my own!" Sherlock cried. "I could have deactivated it if-"

"No." The Doctor said.

* * *

Muttering about remote control, the Doctor got out of bed and dressed in a bathrobe. The others, bewildered and stunned by what had just happened, followed him out of the flat and onto the balcony corridor overlooking the courtyard below.

The Santa Claus band was down there and the Doctor aimed his sonic screwdriver at them. They backed off and were beamed away, probably back to whatever spaceship they came from.

"What was that?" John asked.

"Another reason why I could have used a sonic screwdriver of my own!" Sherlock cried.

"For the last time, Sherlock-" The Doctor said, turning to him and wincing.

The Doctor collapsed in pain and the others rushed forward to catch him. He explained that the Santa Claus band were just pilot fish trying to eliminate the Doctor's defenses, his friends, to procure him and his regeneration energy.

"Thanks, by the way, for trying to protect me." The Doctor managed to say.

"No problem." John told him.

"It was indeed a major hassle." Anthea muttered.

"Thank you for the brutal honesty." Lestrade said, rolling his eyes.

Then the Doctor cried out that he needed something, and suddenly everyone started clamoring out, calling out suggestions.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's probably something silly and mundane like tea."

"Tea!" The Doctor cried, startling everyone before he passed out.

* * *

The others paused, considering the suggestion, before they quickly grabbed the Doctor and dragged him back into Jackie's flat and the bedroom where he was before. Then they started a frantic search through Jackie's cupboards and the bags that Ms. Hudson had brought over, searching for any remnants of tea.

"I think we drank it all!" Ms. Hudson cried, staring into the bottom of the tea pot. "Oh, I knew I should have brought more. But I thought-"

"It's all right, Ms. Hudson, we'll get some." Molly said, turning to the others. "There must be some 24-hour shop that's still open somewhere."

After a quick search on their mobiles, Sherlock, Mycroft, and Anthea came up with the closest location of a 24-hour shop that was still open on Christmas Eve. Anthea, Mycroft, and Lestrade ran out to get the tea—Anthea to purchase the tea, Mycroft to clear any possible obstructions, and Lestrade to serve as security in case they came across any more Santa Clauses.

"Thank goodness we live in a city like London with such modern conveniences." Ms. Hudson said.

John and Molly checked on the Doctor again to make sure he hadn't been too damaged by his excursion. Sherlock and Rose ran down to the TARDIS to fetch some clothes, personal belongings, and John's gun in case they needed to defend the Doctor again.

When they got back to Jackie's flat and Sherlock delivered John's clothes and weapons to him, he inched over toward the Doctor and the sonic screwdriver. John watched Sherlock, aware of what he was up to.

"Are you sure the Doctor would like you to take his sonic screwdriver away from him?" John asked.

"It can't hurt, right?" Sherlock asked. "I mean, I may only need to borrow it from him for just a little while until he wakes up again."

"Which could be a very short while if they come back with the tea soon." John said. "You don't need the sonic screwdriver right now."

"All right, fine." Sherlock huffed.

Mickey did some research on pilot fish while Jackie turned on the news, watching it along with Ms. Hudson as footage from the Mars probe Guinevere One was transmitted back to Earth. And then alien faces appeared on the screen, startling everybody watching.

"Oh god, this can't be a coincidence, right?" Rose said, glancing over at Sherlock.

"We've got to get access to that feed from Mars." Sherlock said, glancing over at Mickey. "Mickey, you still have my hacking software?"

"Yep, stored on my laptop." Mickey said, and he quickly got them access to the Mars transmission feed.

Sherlock soon got a phone call from Mycroft. "Are you seeing what's going on?" Mycroft asked.

"Yes, we have eyes and ears on everything currently happening." Sherlock said. "How is it with you and Harriet Jones?"

"Anthea has us on a conference call with her. I've told her some of what's going on with us and the Doctor." Mycroft said.

"Hello, Sherlock!" Harriet Jones's voice could faintly be heard on Anthea's other line. "How is the Doctor?"

"Currently still out, but once we get some tea in him, he might be better!" Sherlock shouted back with Mycroft relaying the message in case Harriet Jones hadn't heard.

"Shh! There's something going on." Rose told Sherlock as she and the others watched the transmission feed on Mickey's laptop.


	2. Voodoo Politics

Another chapter, yay!

* * *

Sherlock grimaced at the sight of the aliens heading for them on Christmas Day. "I hope they're wearing masks."

John shook his head. "Why would they be wearing masks?"

"I don't know. It's ceremonial and traditional? Space travel?" Sherlock asked and John shook his head.

Mickey asked if they had seen them before and Sherlock sighed. "It's not like we've seen every alien that's out there. I doubt even the Doctor has."

They couldn't understand what the aliens were saying, and Rose reasoned that something must be wrong with the Doctor's link to the TARDIS. "It'll be all right, Rose." John tried to reassure her, patting her shoulder.

"The TARDIS! John, we must pour a cup of tea for the TARDIS whenever we get the chance." Sherlock said.

"Are you feeling quite well, dear?" Ms. Hudson asked as practically everyone stared at Sherlock.

"What? It's a living thing, too, connected to the Doctor, and it might have been affected by his regeneration." Sherlock said.

"Well, how are we going to serve it? Pour it on the console?" John asked.

"No, don't be stupid, John. Pour it through the grille on the floor. Most of the TARDIS's circuits are down there anyway." Sherlock said.

"All right, fine, as soon as we get the chance." John said. "Anything that might help."

Meanwhile, they monitored the ongoing situation through their hack on the Mars transmission feed and direct line to Mycroft and, through him, Harriet Jones herself. However, when Harriet asked Mycroft about Torchwood, Sherlock's brother briefly hung up on her.

"What is it? What's going on with Torchwood?" Sherlock asked Mycroft, intrigued. The future Captain Jack had warned him about it and they had information about the Doctor, but other than that, he didn't know much about that agency's role.

"Nothing that need concern you, brother. And hopefully nothing that Harriet Jones will mess with either." Mycroft said. "Besides, we're at the shop right now. Call you back in a moment." Mycroft hung up on Sherlock.

Sherlock frowned at his phone. "He's hiding something from me."

"When isn't he?" John sighed.

Anthea, Lestrade, and Mycroft rushed into the 24-hour shop and quickly commandeered and purchased a full shelf worth of tea, in bags, bottled, canistered, brewed, loose, cold and hot, of all varieties and brands from around the world, not knowing what might work. Mycroft stepped off to the side for a moment to call Harriet Jones and privately talk to her, but then he shook his head and hung up on her.

"Any luck?" Lestrade asked his lover, aware something was going on, even if he didn't know what.

Mycroft sighed. "She went around behind my back. I think I trained that woman too well in how to be a politician."

"Sometimes you've got to let stuff like that go. If she fails or it blows up in her face, well, that's life and then you might have your laugh."

"While the world suffers for it." Mycroft said.

Suddenly, Mycroft's phone rang again and he answered. His eyes widened as he heard the news and he told Lestrade and Anthea, "They've gotten the translation from the Sycorax, the aliens, and it's not good."

* * *

"Sycorax rock?" Sherlock gaped as he heard the translation over the line. "They're rock-fans? That's barbaric."

"What's wrong with that? I like a bit of rock n'roll too. So does everyone." Ms. Hudson said.

"Not everyone." Sherlock corrected.

"That reference to cattle isn't exactly comforting." Molly said, grimacing.

"And who's going to die?" John asked, disturbed.

"Don't worry, we'll fix this, we'll figure something out." Sherlock tried to reassure his love.

"We're sending our reply back." Mickey said, listening to Harriet Jones's words along with everyone else.

"Not exactly the best, most diplomatic remarks we could have made to them." Sherlock said.

"You probably would have insulted them if you had to come up with a response." John said. "Besides, they threatened us, too."

"Maybe, but there's still a possibility that their words are an empty boast." Sherlock said.

Rose fretted over the Doctor in that moment, while still worried about everything else. Mickey hugged and comforted her then, though she wouldn't answer when he asked if she loved the Doctor.

Sherlock observed them from afar, quite aware of Rose's feelings for the Doctor. He knew that Mickey would never find the sort of love he wanted or needed from Rose, and he was glad that he had his John.

* * *

Early morning light shone as Anthea, Mycroft, and Lestrade returned, tired and cold, but triumphant with their arms full of tea to Jackie's flat. Ms. Hudson and Molly quickly sorted through the bags and tried to pick out the best, most expedient options as Jackie picked out some cups.

The others stood off to the side, talking about the approaching alien invasion and Harriet's response while Mycroft's phone rang again and Mickey's computer had an alert. The Sycorax were responding.

The others rushed over to the computer, watching and listening in as Jackie ran down to the TARDIS to pour some tea on the grille floor and Molly went to serve a cup to the Doctor. Ms. Hudson manned the kitchen, ready to prepare more tea should any of those options fail.

On the computer, they saw the Sycorax wave their hands and blue energy appeared. Suddenly Sherlock, Mycroft, and Anthea stiffened as blue energy appeared over their heads, their expressions vacant and frozen. The others didn't notice at first, concentrated as they were on what was going on with the Sycorax, but then the trio turned and started walking out of the room without a word like robots.

"Sherlock?" John asked.

"Mycroft?" Lestrade added. However, they didn't respond or react, they just kept moving, staring ahead of them.

"What's going on?" Molly asked, sticking her head out from Jackie's room. She hadn't served the tea to the Doctor yet, but the cup waited on the bedside stand.

"I don't know, but something's affecting them and it might have something to do with the aliens!" John cried.

He and the others rushed out, following after the trio, and were soon joined by dozens of other people throughout the estate. They were begging and pleading with their loved ones and friends acting in such a bizarre state as the horde moved outside and started climbing stairs.

Lestrade, John, and others tried to stop the afflicted, especially Sherlock and Mycroft, but it had little effect on them as they kept going, no matter what. So John and the others let them go and kept behind them, worried.

Lestrade tried to call Donavan and get answers from her to find out what was going on throughout the rest of London. But Anderson answered her phone, as Sally Donavan was also acting like a zombie. Mycroft's phone was ringing nonstop and John managed to snatch it from him and answer.

"Don't tell me Mycroft's been affected, too?" Harriet Jones groaned.

"And Sherlock and Anthea as well! What's going on? What have the aliens done to them?" John asked, worried as he stared at his beloved, who didn't recognize or acknowledge him.

"We don't know, but it's happening everywhere it seems. All around the country, and maybe even worldwide." Harriet Jones said.

"They're climbing. Why are they climbing? Where are they going?" Ms. Hudson asked, tearful.

"They…the Sycorax wouldn't do such a thing. They couldn't, could they?" Molly asked John, a terrible realization coming to her mind.

"I don't know. I haven't the foggiest notion of what the Sycorax can or can't do to them, what they're capable of." John gasped, feeling helpless and angry.

"Sherlock might figure out something or Mycroft might come up with a plan with Anthea's help. And you know the Doctor would be on top of everything! But I'm not capable of coming up with an idea or solution here. Aside from…Molly, did you give the Doctor his tea?" John asked.

Molly hesitated, trying to remember, and shook her head. "Then that's what I'm going to do here and hope that saves everyone." John sighed, sad and resigned.

He glanced at his beloved, who didn't notice him as he continued to climb, and then John turned away, not wishing to see anymore. He raced downstairs through empty corridors as everyone had gone up to the roof, the afflicted and the onlookers alike.

* * *

He pushed open the door to Jackie's flat, and Jackie was standing there, staring around her empty flat as she held an empty teacup. "What's wrong? Where has everyone gone?" Jackie asked. "I did it like I was supposed to, poured the tea into the TARDIS and everything."

"To the roof, I think. The aliens are controlling a bunch of people worldwide, Mycroft, Sherlock, and Anthea amongst them. It's like they're possessed and if we don't do something…I think they might jump."

Jackie gasped in horror. "Is Rose okay?"

"She's fine, nothing wrong with her or Mickey. It's just those three amongst our group." John said before he walked into Jackie's bedroom toward the tea on the bedside stand.

"I'm so sorry. I hope they'll be okay." Jackie said, shaking her head. "What I don't understand is why those three? Sherlock, Mycroft, and Anthea. There's nothing that ties them together, right?"

"Well, Sherlock and Mycroft are brothers, Anthea's his assistant, but there's a bunch of others that have been affected worldwide. Not everyone, but enough people…" John sighed and shook his head as he grabbed the teacup. "We'll figure it out later. Right now, we need the Doctor."

As gently as he could, he managed to pour the tea down the Doctor's throat and the Time Lord unconsciously swallowed, but there was no response from the Doctor for a moment. Suddenly Mycroft's phone rang again, startling Jackie and John in that still, silent moment.

He quickly grabbed the phone and gruffly answered, "What is it?"

Harriet Jones explained a possible cause for the situation as a vial of A Positive blood had been included in Guinevere One's payload. John groaned to himself, feeling miserable and tired, drained after a terrible night and the day before they had been stuck on the Gamestation. He was just so weary and afraid and he wished that…suddenly Jackie was tapping him on the shoulder.

"What is it now?" John griped as he looked up and the Tenth Doctor was awake and solemnly staring at him.

"Hello, John." The Doctor said.

"Hello, Doctor." John said, barely able to breathe.

"So what's gone wrong now?" The Doctor asked.

* * *

Jackie and John quickly explained the situation as best they could to the Doctor, who started putting on his bathrobe, not having anything else to wear at the moment. The Doctor grabbed his sonic screwdriver, and John was glad for a moment that Sherlock had left it alone before he sobered up, thinking of Sherlock.

"Blood control." The Doctor said at one point when John told him what Harriet Jones's team had discovered. "That's brilliant. Don't have to worry about them jumping."

"What do you mean?" John asked, staring at him.

"Survival instinct's too strong. You can only control them so much to bring them to the edge, but you can't make them jump. It's a scare tactic." The Doctor said.

John breathed a heavy sigh of relief, sagging a little in exhaustion as the Doctor hugged him and patted him on the back, trying to relieve his tension. Harriet Jones was delivering a speech on TV, which had been left on, but no one paid any mind to that right now. Suddenly the windows shattered in the flat, throughout the estate, and across the city, causing them to duck down with the Doctor sheltering John and Jackie as much as he was able to.

"What was that?" Jackie cried.

"Sonic wave!" The Doctor cried. "They're here. The aliens are landing or they've arrived. Whichever works!"

"Let's go greet the neighbors and set everybody free." John said, causing the Doctor to laugh.

They quickly ran out of the flat and bumped into Rose and Mickey, who had been coming down to check on John and the Doctor. Everyone cried out in shock, laughed, and hugged each other, glad to see the Doctor well again.

"Where are the others?" John asked Rose.

"They stayed up on the roof to watch out for Mycroft, Sherlock, and Anthea. Lestrade said he would hold them back if he could." Rose grimaced.

"He won't have to. Come on, to the TARDIS!" The Doctor cried.

They rushed downstairs to the estate's courtyard where the Doctor paused a moment to look back and up at the people lining the estate's roofs, including Sherlock, Mycroft, and Anthea. The Doctor grimaced as he spotted them, privately vowing that no one would harm his friends, their family, or this planet. Then he turned back towards the TARDIS, rushing inside.

Rose urged her mother to stay behind and tell the others what was going on as the Doctor, John, and Mickey went around the console, checking the system and powering everything up. Rose closed the TARDIS doors and walked up to the console, staring at this new version of her Doctor.

"All set?" She asked.

The Doctor smiled. "Right as rain."

Suddenly a light flashed on the console and the Doctor checked it, laughing. "They're picking us up! We don't even have to ask them for a ride! We're going straight up to the spaceship!"

"That doesn't sound good. It means they're prepared for us." Mickey said.

"Oh, no one is prepared for me. Not even me." The Doctor said, smiling.

They nervously gathered at the TARDIS doors, which the Doctor flung open, and suddenly they were tangling with Sycorax guards. Harriet Jones and her translator looked up, deathly afraid with the ashes of two other humans next to them.

"Is that the Doctor?" Harriet Jones asked as they now understood what the Sycorax were saying without their translation device.

"Oh, they really were wearing masks." John remarked, seeing the true faces of the Sycorax.

He ought to tell Sherlock that, whenever he might or if he could see and talk to him again. Rose urged the Sycorax to leave in peace, mustering all of the words of authority she had learned in her year of traveling with the Doctor.

"I don't think that's working." John said as the Sycorax laughed.

The Sycorax leader attempted to crack a deadly whip at the Doctor and the others. But the Doctor blocked and disabled the whip, pulling it away from the Sycorax. He broke a staff and then took a moment to greet Harriet Jones and convince her who he was before he addressed the Sycorax.

John and his friends watched everything, marveling over this new Doctor, who listed all the possibilities of his new personality and persona. He literally could talk a mile a minute, quite a feat, but it was also a feint and distraction of sorts as the Doctor edged towards the great, big, red button that controlled the zombie humans.

Harriet Jones and her translator cried out in alarm, afraid the Doctor was killing them when he pressed the button. However, down below on Earth, as Jackie was telling Lestrade, Ms. Hudson, and Molly about everything that happened with the Doctor, the zombified humans suddenly revived, the blue energy disappearing.

* * *

Sherlock blinked a moment, feeling dizzy and disoriented as he suddenly found himself standing on the edge of the estate's roof next to his brother and Anthea, looking down at the courtyard below. He could have sworn they were just staring at the Sycorax on Mickey's computer screen a second ago and here they were.

Sherlock gasped and staggered back from the edge, his mind palace reeling and trying to re-engage with everything that was going on around him. He looked around at all of the people, also standing on the edge of the roof in shock, and their friends and relatives standing nearby. Then he glanced up and saw the alien spaceship right above their heads, marveling at it.

Lestrade hugged and kissed a visibly shaken-up Mycroft and Anthea tried to act as nonplussed as she could despite the situation. Molly, Jackie, and Ms. Hudson, meanwhile, were clutching at each other tightly, smiling and laughing. Visibly absent, though, were John, Rose, and Mickey.

"What happened here? Where are the others? What did they try…" Sherlock asked, trying to cope with his situation.

The others quickly explained what was going on and Sherlock frowned to himself. "They left without me? That's bollocks. Well, at least they've gotten a hold on the situation." He glanced up at the spaceship. "Good luck, Doctor, John, Rose and Mickey." He murmured.

Suddenly Sherlock's phone rang and he answered. "Hello?"

"What am I doing standing on this roof?" Captain Jack Harkness asked.

Sherlock laughed and explained the situation as best he could. Meanwhile, the Doctor argued his case to the Sycorax, though he wound up quoting lines from the Lion King.

And then he challenged the Sycorax leader to a duel for the planet's fate. The others watched, horrified and spellbound as the Sycorax and the Doctor actually dueled with real swords outside the spaceship to a balcony area. They followed after the fight, watching intently, though John wondered how they managed to preserve grass out here.

They nearly tried to help out with how badly the Doctor fought, and then the Doctor lost his sword and a hand in the process, falling off of the spaceship. "Oh, this is a nightmare," John said, shaking his head as the Sycorax cheered.

However, the Doctor managed to regrow his hand, just because he was still in the middle of his regeneration cycle. "You have got to be kidding me," John said, saying what most of them probably felt like at that point.

Still, Rose tossed the Doctor a new sword and he renewed his fight with vigor, disarming and defeating his opponent before sparing him. John laughed and clapped along with the rest as the Doctor returned to them, triumphant with the promise that the Sycorax would leave.

"Arthur Dent? Why does that name sound so familiar?" John asked, puzzled as the Doctor talked about his wearing a bathrobe.

Then the Doctor talked about the satsuma he found in his bathrobe just as the Sycorax leader got up and started running towards the Doctor, waving his sword. However, before John or the others could react, the Doctor tossed the satsuma at a control button for the ship, and the Sycorax leader wound up falling to his death.

"God, that was close," John murmured as they went back inside and wrung another promise out of the Sycorax to leave the planet alone. Then the TARDIS, its crew, and Harriet Jones and her translator were beamed away, back to Earth.

* * *

Meanwhile, Sherlock and the others had gotten down off of the roof and walked out into the courtyard, staring up at the spaceship. Mycroft and Lestrade were on the phone, trying to talk with anyone they could get ahold of as to what was going on.

"Satellite imagery picked up some activity going on outside of the spaceship. Almost looked like a sword fight happening between the Sycorax and someone that matches the new Doctor's appearance." Anthea said as she got off of the phone.

"Oh dear, that sounds dangerously gallant." Ms. Hudson said.

Sherlock laughed to himself and shook his head. "That would be just like him in a strange way."

Suddenly he spotted a beam of light coming down from the spaceship to an area a short distance away and he started running towards it with the rest of the group following after him. At that point, the Doctor, John, Rose, Mickey, Harriet Jones, her translator and the TARDIS materialized on the street and watched, excited and cheering, as the spaceship started to depart.

"John! Doctor! Rose!" Sherlock shouted, running towards them.

"Sherlock!" John cried, running to embrace and kiss his lover.

The others met and reunited, talking and chattering excitedly with each other, when suddenly Harriet Jones and her assistant went off to the side, talking privately with each other. At first Mycroft didn't notice, caught up with the excitement as well, but then he saw Harriet Jones mouth a command to her assistant.

"No, wait, stop!" Mycroft cried out, striding over to his protégé.

"It's too late," Harriet Jones said, looking down as her assistant gave the command.

Suddenly laser beams shot up into the sky and struck down the Sycorax warship. The Doctor angrily turned against Harriet Jones as the others stood off to the side, shocked and numbed by what was happening. Mycroft clenched his fist, not willing to say anything as the Doctor and Harriet Jones argued over the validity of the threat.

"And what about you, Iceman?" The Doctor suddenly said, turning on Mycroft Holmes as well.

"Oi, leave him alone." Lestrade said, getting huffy in defense of his beloved.

"You trained her how to be prime minister, too. You must have had a hand in or some knowledge as well of this defense network that she's built." The Doctor said.

"It's out of my hands." Mycroft Holmes said, staring at the Doctor as Sherlock watched him closely. "I couldn't do anything at this point or stop her from using such a network. I don't have control here."

"What, you? The British government?" John asked, scoffing.

"It's out of my hands." Mycroft said as the Doctor frowned.

"He's telling the truth." Sherlock said, watching his brother as the others looked to him now. "Mycroft has no control of this situation. It's outside of his jurisdiction, isn't it?"

"Like I said, it's out of my hands." Mycroft lowered his head, ashamed.

"Who is responsible here, then?" Sherlock asked, curious. "Who created that laser defense network?"

"Torchwood." Harriet Jones simply said without further explanation.

"What is Torchwood?" Sherlock asked, but no one responded.

Harriet Jones and the Doctor threatened each other, and then the Doctor whispered six words into the translator's ear before walking off with the others following in his wake. Sherlock scoffed and shook his head.

"I could do it in three." He turned around and told his brother, "Mycroft, burn her."

"With pleasure." Mycroft grimaced, disappointed in Harriet Jones and what she had come to.

He would not have condoned her actions, especially after the Sycorax had apparently surrendered and departed and the Doctor was currently present. Yet he was also unnerved as part of him wondered what he would have done if placed in her situation with so much at stake and so very little to be done.

Would he have given the go-ahead to Torchwood if the Doctor, his brother, and John, had not been present? Mycroft shuddered, glad that he didn't have to make such choices publicly, with the eyes of his friends, family, and important allies on him. But he could at least privately remain in the shadows, and deal with his own affairs without such scrutiny and judgment.

* * *

I know it's so close to the end of the episode, but I decided to stop here for now. Conclusion and interlude for The Christmas Invasion coming up.


	3. Joy and Laughter

I know it's a short chapter, but I wanted to end it on a positive note and really start off on the next adventure after.

* * *

As the others wandered back to Jackie Tyler's flat, the grim mood from the spaceship exploding started to fade away and they began to talk and even laugh about some of the events over the past couple of hours. Ms. Hudson started to discuss Christmas dinner and Jackie chimed in as well with Rose, Mickey, John, Mycroft, Lestrade, Molly, Anthea and even Sherlock adding in their own suggestions.

As they passed by the TARDIS, the Doctor slipped out of the crowd, with Rose, Sherlock, and John in particular noticing. "Doctor, where are you going?" Rose asked, concerned.

"I need to just grab two, three, maybe even four things from the TARDIS. I'll be back soon." The Doctor said, smiling at them as he jogged off towards the TARDIS.

"Wait for me!" Sherlock cried, running after him.

Rose and John might have followed, but Jackie and Ms. Hudson pulled them along despite their protests, wanting some help. Sherlock entered the TARDIS just a few steps behind the Doctor, who glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Can't quite get rid of you, can I?" The Doctor remarked.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked.

"The wardrobe room." The Doctor replied.

"You're going to pick out an outfit?" Sherlock's eyes boggled at the prospect. "Can I come with you? To give you a second opinion?"

"Okay, but definitely not into the dressing room." The Doctor wagged a finger at him before he headed off.

Sherlock followed. "I know, boundaries. John is always reminding me of that before we start snogging. But anyway, this is an important step, I know, whenever you choose an outfit that you might wind up wearing for the rest of your regeneration. Do you always go to the wardrobe room?"

"No, only a couple of times before. Sometimes I just pick something off of the shelf wherever I wind up. But I don't think Jackie would have many good options for me." The Doctor turned around, showing off his bathrobe and jammies as they entered the wardrobe room. "See? I mean, could you imagine me running around like this for the rest of my life? Doesn't bear thinking about," He shuddered, turning to the shelves as he started browsing through them.

"Could be worse." Sherlock said, settling down into a chair and marveling at the large, labyrinthine wardrobe room. "I mean, jammies and a bathrobe are somewhat comfortable and relaxed. But they definitely don't exude an air of authority and might not be suitable for travel in all weather and terrain."

"Exude an air of authority?" The Doctor shook his head. "Definitely not for me. I would rather be comfortable and relaxed and nonthreatening."

"I know, but sometimes your posture is more commanding than not. Even wearing a bathrobe and jammies, you certainly looked authoritative like a general." Sherlock said.

"Definitely not for me." The Doctor insisted, glancing through the shelves.

"Not the leopard. Scottish might be okay. Definitely not the Hawaiian." Sherlock insisted.

"I like the floral pattern." The Doctor said, looking down at the floor and picking up a red velvet or silk Italian suit from the 1700s with gold braiding. "What do you think of this? Does it suit me?" He asked, modeling it a little.

"I've seen it somewhere before. Maybe that Casanova guy?" Sherlock said.

"Ah, right, yeah." The Doctor said, reluctantly setting it to the side. "He was fun."

* * *

"Um, Doctor…" Sherlock said, trying to be as delicate as he possibly could be. "My brother, he's investigating the Moriarty matter as thoroughly as he possibly can."

"That's good. We definitely need to find out more about that."

"Right. And he was considering what happened to him, and how he was hypnotized…do you think the Master could possibly be involved with that?"

"No." The Doctor said, as quiet and still as he possibly could be, staring at his reflection.

"It's just that you said you recognized the style or handiwork of the hypnosis, but then you denied it. And Mycroft said it's the exact sort of tactic that the Master used several times during your UNIT time and after-"

"No, it's not the Master. He's gone, dead and gone like all the rest of the Time Lords except for me." The Doctor said, grim.

"All right, if you say so." Sherlock sighed. "And you don't have any clue as to who else it might have been?"

"No, sorry." The Doctor said, relaxing slightly, but still avoiding looking at Sherlock as he shoved his head back into the racks.

"Right, thanks." Sherlock said, wishing the Doctor would be more forward with him. He pondered some things as the Doctor continued to peruse. "Do you think we did the right thing with Harriet Jones?"

"I think so. There was no excuse for what she did when the Sycorax had surrendered honorably and peacefully after their champion had been defeated. Ruffles?" The Doctor asked.

"Definitely not ruffles. Yes, but did she understand that?" Sherlock asked as the Doctor paused to stare at something. "What she had seen of the Sycorax and what they had done must have frightened her as well. How close she and the others came to surrendering when the Sycorax didn't have the control they claimed to have."

Sherlock turned his head and stared at the brown pinstripe suit the Doctor had just pulled off of the shelves. "I like that." Sherlock said.

"Me too." The Doctor looked up and snatched a long brown coat off of another shelf.

"There you go!" Sherlock cried as the Doctor grinned, examining his outfit.

"I guess, but I was there to help her out eventually." The Doctor cried as he ran off with his outfit to change. "She should have seen that I would come around. I'm a time traveler, I'm always around. She just didn't know where or when to look for me." The Doctor slammed the dressing room door shut.

"That's a long-term view she just didn't have at that point, thinking ahead." Sherlock said as he waited.

"Well, now that message won't spread." The Doctor, muffled, said behind the door. "The invaders will just keep coming, believing Earth to be a primitive, defenseless planet without anything to offer them in terms of enlightenment and culture. Typical human short-sightedness, ruining your chances for peace, success, and progress." The Doctor muttered. "She should have trusted me."

"Sometimes it's hard to trust others. She didn't know you that well." Sherlock said as the Doctor opened the dressing room door and stepped out, modeling his brown pinstripe suit and long brown coat.

Sherlock gasped, swallowing his breath. "That suits you, more than I can say." Sherlock said.

"Do you really think so?" The Doctor asked, checking his reflection. "Not too much like your outfit?"

"Yep. Anyway, she was going to be Prime Minister for Britain's Golden Age, right? But you changed that future, didn't you?" Sherlock asked.

"Not exactly. Time is flexible in some small areas, in some ways." The Doctor grinned and bared his teeth, rubbing his tongue over them like he was checking out his molars. "It can make allowances for certain exigencies, if there was a fairly good reason why time should change, and it was necessary from my viewpoint."

"What was your viewpoint?" Sherlock asked, slightly fascinated.

"I could see a change in Harriet Jones and her policies, a shift that might lead Britain down a different road from the Golden Age that I had heard about." The Doctor nodded, satisfied with his look. "A darker future that could crush the chances of Britain and the rest of the world joining the cosmos, becoming a greater part of existence with billions of other planets. So I had to stop her before it was too late, before that Golden Age might be lost."

* * *

The Doctor walked off, glancing back at a stunned Sherlock, still sitting on his chair. "Come along, Sherlock." The Doctor said.

"So you shifted it around a little bit, adjusted it so that Harriet Jones's reign would end sooner than expected? How risky is that?" Sherlock asked, getting up and joining the Doctor as they walked out of the wardrobe room.

"A little, considering that I don't know what will happen at this point, what will fill in the gap of Harriet Jones's reign." The Doctor said as they walked down the TARDIS corridors. "But I had to do it to save her as well, if there was a chance that she could be great again. Change back to the Harriet Jones I knew she was."

"Hmm. Well, I hope it was the right decision in the end." Sherlock remarked as they walked into the console room, which was a little worse for wear. "I'm glad that you are here, Doctor."

"Thanks. I'm glad that you're all here as well." The Doctor grinned at him before walking to the phonebox doors. "Let's go rejoin the others."

"Okay." Sherlock said as they left the TARDIS. "Though it is going to be a mess up there with Ms. Hudson and Jackie baking, Mycroft and Lestrade are probably snogging, Mickey and Rose causing trouble…"

The Doctor laughed and said, "Come on, admit it, you love it, though. Despite how antisocial or above it all you might appear."

As they crossed the courtyard, Sherlock glanced at the Doctor. "All right, it might be enjoyable at times, but it's such a mess. And Christmastime this year, after such a big alien invasion that threatened the world…can it still be good?"

"Of course. And it's not unusual." The Doctor said. "Every Christmas is an invasion of friends, family, loved ones, near and dear ones, neighbors, strangers and even deadly enemies at times. It's filled with laughter, joy, shouting, crying, arguing, food, fun, games and more."

"Never thought of it that way before." Sherlock said as they climbed up the stairs.

"You can't stop Christmas from being celebrated, just like you can't stop the world even if something goes horribly wrong." The Doctor told him. "Even when terrible, tragic things happen and everything is a mess, and people have gone crazy, enough to make you angry, you still treat others with respect, kindness, and forgiveness. That is what the season is all about." The Doctor reflected as they walked towards Jackie's flat. "The joy we share and the love it brings, no matter how schmaltzy, camp, or melodramatic it might all be."

"Thanks, Doctor." Sherlock smiled at him and they entered Jackie's flat with Rose grinning up at the Doctor in his new outfit and John rushing over to give Sherlock a hug.

That evening they celebrated Christmas in style with crackers and paper crowns, turkey, and even Christmas carols. At one point, everyone clamored for Sherlock to play Christmas music on his violin.

"All right, all right!" Sherlock cried as he grabbed his instrument. "You'll have to excuse me, though. I've been listening to the radio for far too long and this song got stuck in my head."

He started playing the instrumental music on his violin and, in a gravelly voice, sang, "When I woke up today and the world seemed a restless place, it could have been that way for me." The others listened, somewhat awestruck that Sherlock had decided to play this. "Then I wandered around and I thought of your face that Christmas looking back at me."

John grinned and started singing along, "I wish today was just like every other day." And then the others joined in. "Cause today has been the best day. Everything I ever dreamed."

Sherlock's voice caught in his throat somewhat, listening to the others, but he kept going. "Then I started to walk, pretty soon I will run. And I'll be running back to you." He smiled at John. "Because I followed my star, and that's what you are. I've had a merry time with you."

Rose and the Doctor were holding hands, grinning at each ohter as they all sang the last verse. "I wish today was just like every other day."

Then they all started laughing, whooping, cheering and clapping as Sherlock, hiding a blush, put his instrument away. They listened to Harriet Jones's speech on television and then trooped outside to watch the ashes fall from the Sycorax spaceship like snow. Yet they marveled at the stars beyond with the Doctor, Rose, Sherlock and John planning their next trip.

"Course, it's going to take me a few days, maybe even a couple of weeks, to repair everything on the TARDIS." The Doctor said as they walked back to Jackie's flat. "Might want to do some redecorating as well."

"That'll give us some time to go back to the flat and work on the backlog of cases waiting for us, won't it?" John said, glancing at Sherlock.

"Yes, I suppose." Sherlock sighed. "Hope it's not exceptionally boring."

"Oh, my boys are coming home! Excellent news." Ms. Hudson said.

"Hasn't been the same in the morgue without you." Molly smiled.

"Shall I set up some appointments?" Anthea asked.

"Good to hear. I might have some leads on Moriarty I want you all to take a look at." Mycroft remarked.

"Back to the old grindstone." Lestrade grinned.

"Ha, ha, very funny." Sherlock said.

* * *

"Harriet Jones is gone-on, Harriet Jones is gone-on, Harriet Jones is gone!" The Master and Moriarty sang in a conga tune, their bottoms sashaying as they danced around the room.

"Enough with that tune!" Lucy Saxon groaned, nursing a hangover as she drank some more whisky straight.

"Oh, shut up, why shouldn't we celebrate?" Moriarty hissed at her.

"It's getting annoying." Lucy Saxon glared back at him, icy stares interlocked with each other. But she fidgeted first and looked away with Moriarty evilly grinning at her.

"We've finally got a straight shot at Downing Street and the prime minsistership without Harriet Jones in the way!" The Master practically crowed. "This calls for a celebration!"

"To Mycroft Holmes, for shooting down his own protégé!" Moriarty laughed as he snatched the bottle of whisky away from Lucy, toasted, and drank it down.

"Hey! Get your own bottle!" Lucy shouted at him.

"Calm down, my dear, no need to get hysterical." The Master tried to soothe her with an additional glare at Moriarty. "Let's all play nice and respect each other's boundaries."

"Fine. It's cheap whisky anyway." Moriarty said, tossing the bottle back at Lucy.

Lucy caught it before it hit her. "You're the cheapskate." She muttered at Moriarty's back before she drank again.

Moriarty stiffened and curled his fists, but the Master shook his head at him. So Moriarty backed down, calming himself and relaxed before he went off to get another bottle.

"Why do you suppose the Doctor let him get away with it?" Moriarty asked. "Isn't she supposed to be some big-shot prime minister, according to history?"

The Master smiled. "The Doctor's anger got the best of him this time around. I figured something like that might happen when he saw her order Torchwood to shoot them down."

"A toast to Torchwood and the Sycorax!" Moriarty said, drinking champagne now. "Good thing they came like they were supposed to. I thought they would never get here on time."

"The Sycorax are an honorable sort, mostly. They always try to stick to their agreements. I thought it would be a good touch for them to arrive during Christmas and cause a mass panic to destabilize the government." The Master said.

"Yeah, but that whole thing with the roof and blood control. I wish they would have jumped." Moriarty shook his head.

"You were the one that suggested the blood control." The Master remarked. "I thought there were better ways of hypnosis."

"Too obvious, though. We don't want to put the Doctor on his guard for you, too, do we?" Moriarty said.

"No, too soon for that." The Master said. "The Archangel network is not strong enough to hide close scrutiny and we still have to establish firm ties here. We can't possibly win an election for prime minister yet, though it should be close."

"How long do you think it will take?" Moriarty asked.

"It might take a couple of months, possibly a year before any temporary government that Mycroft Holmes sets up starts to fall apart. And then the next election, Harold Saxon is going to win by a landslide. I guarantee it." The Master grinned.

"Do you think the Doctor suspects anything after what happened with Mycroft?" Moriarty asked.

"Possibly, but he'll deny it without any hard evidence." The Master grinned. "You know, Mycroft did guide Harriet, so while he was under my influence, Harriet Jones was indirectly trained by me."

"That's certainly true." Moriarty said. "Perhaps to the point where she would choose to shoot down the alien spacecraft, instead of going with a more peaceful solution."

"Good way of destroying evidence. How's your smuggling operation?" The Master asked Moriarty.

"Fine enough now. Though with Sherlock back, I think he's going to be sniffing around a little more." Moriarty said.

"Damn shame." The Master said.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Sherlock and John said good-bye to Ms. Hudson once more with some last-minute instructions and payment for taking care of their flat in their absence. They had already said good-bye to Mycroft, Lestrade, Molly and everyone else. With all of their luggage, they took a taxi to the Powell Estate and headed to the courtyard where the TARDIS waited.

Rose was already there, saying good-bye to her mum and Mickey, and she smiled as the boys joined them. "Off on another whirlwind adventure?" She remarked.

"Naturally." Sherlock said, grinning as he and John greeted and waved farewell to Mickey and Jackie, too.

John grimaced slightly, partly wanting to stay at home in London, and get cozier with Sherlock like an ordinary couple. But then again, if their ordinary life together was going to be as 'adventurous' as their time with the Doctor, with all of the mysteries that Sherlock had to solve, then they might as well go traveling in the TARDIS.

It couldn't be worse or more dangerous than some of the scrapes he and Sherlock had just gotten into, right? And at least the whole time and space travel aspect of it appealed to him as well, though Sherlock got the biggest kick out of it.

They entered the TARDIS and greeted the Doctor, who asked how John and Sherlock fared.

"We had a couple of rough cases, but at least we're okay." John sighed. "Not everyone came out of it alive, but we're fine."

"Poor Sarah, though." Sherlock said, turning to John. "You had to disappoint her, didn't you?"

"Shut up. I didn't mean to make her think…I just wanted to be nice and thank her for helping me out at work." John said.

"Should have told her I was coming along as well." Sherlock said.

"I said a friend…I should have said boyfriend." John sighed.

"Yep." Sherlock added.

Rose and the Doctor burst out laughing with John glaring at them and then Sherlock joined in the laughter as John rolled his eyes. At that point, wiping tears of mirth out of his eyes, the Doctor set the TARDIS in motion and they were off once more with Rose and Sherlock whooping for joy and John joining in, laughing.

* * *

Originally, I was going to have the Doctor reading and checking out books in the TARDIS library to help Sherlock and John break that Blind Banker book cipher. But then going back over that episode, I realized the Doctor's help really wouldn't have been necessary when solving the cipher didn't require looking through all of the books that had ever been published, but only the books in those two flats. Still a fun thought.


	4. An Ending Has A Start

**New Earth, yay! I always knew I wanted to do a farce with this one, but now watching it again and reading the episode's transcript, I understood how sad it could be as well, given certain factors. And I'm not just talking about Cassandra's story, which is sad sometimes, but the other stories as well. Well, here's the start of the story.**

* * *

 **An Ending Has A Start**

"The hills are alive with the sound of music," Sherlock and John sang as they danced and raced down the apple grass hill on New Earth with the Doctor and Rose laughing at them before they joined in.

After a while, they whooped for joy and collapsed onto the grass, staring up at the cars flying overhead. Sherlock lifted his head, chewing on a bit of grass that did taste like apples like the Doctor had said, as he and the others stared at New New York. "Marvelous trip." He said.

John laughed. "You say that now, but we've only just got here. The trouble hasn't started yet. It usually begins after an hour or two."

"Of course, but this could be a quiet trip." Sherlock said, glancing at John. "We've had a few of those."

"A few, yes, but...well, I suspect that it will be a little more adventurous than that." John said, turning to Sherlock. "The Doctor had some reason for coming here. He was looking at something on his psychic paper while we were traveling. He seemed concerned, too."

"Hmm, well, I suppose we'll find out which one of us is right." Sherlock said, looking at John. "Care to make a wager?"

"Shut up, no, not right now." John said.

Just then, John spotted a glint of something metallic in the grass and he shivered, remembering how they used to watch where they stepped back in Afghanistan. "Sherlock, don't move. There's something over there." He pointed.

However, as Sherlock looked up, it darted away before they could get a glimpse of it. But they had seen that blur of movement, indicating something was there. "It's small. A rat or creature of some kind?" Sherlock said.

"No, metallic, like a robot." John said.

The Doctor and Rose had gotten up, and noticed what was going on. "A robot?" The Doctor asked as they approached. "Which direction?"

John pointed it out and the Doctor aimed his sonic screwdriver there. Sparks flew up a few feet away and they rushed over and gathered around one of the spider robots.

"Cassandra used those to infiltrate and sabotage Platform One." Rose said, recognizing it. "Do you suppose she's still here?"

"That would cause us some trouble." John said, gloating a little.

"Fine, we've got trouble, with a capital T that rhymes with E and stands for New Earth." Sherlock said. "But that sort of device, Doctor, it's not custom-made or self-designed, right?"

"No, there are several companies that made spider robots like this one." The Doctor pointed out a logo as he examined it. "See?"

"So it could be someone else. Cassandra was destroyed." Rose said, relaxing a little.

"Maybe. But let's keep on our guard." The Doctor fished out his sonic penlight device and tossed it at Sherlock. "Here you go, bug zapper."

Sherlock sighed, looking at it. "I would rather...never mind." He said, noticing the look on the Doctor's face.

* * *

The Doctor got up, pocketing the spider, and shared with them the note he had received and why they were here. They went down to the hospital, talking amongst themselves as they entered the lobby, a very fancy, well-designed place.

"Do you think Cassandra could have sent the note?" Rose asked, worried.

"Why are you so concerned?" Sherlock asked, sniffling.

"She did nearly kill me and John, remember?" Rose said.

"Oh, right. I nearly blocked that out." Sherlock inhaled and shuddered. "That would have been terrible." He sneezed.

"Bless you. Think you need to see a doctor?" John asked. "I could give you a check-up or you can seek a second opinion here."

"No, thank you, it's just allergies, I suppose. I'm not allergic to much, just…cats." Sherlock sniffled as a cat-nurse walked by, staring at him. "Oh, great, that's just perfect."

John, the Doctor, and Rose laughed as Sherlock wiped his nose. "It's not that funny. I'm going to be miserable here."

"Right, sorry, we don't want you to be miserable." The Doctor fished around in his pockets, checked the content, and tossed a sealed pill pouch at Sherlock. "Here's an allergy tablet, supposed to work wonders."

"It's for humans, right?" Sherlock asked, checking the pill.

"Yeah, I usually make sure I keep some medicine for humans, just in case." The Doctor said.

"Thanks." Sherlock said, unsealing the pouch and swallowing the pill.

John grimaced. "Better be careful with that, just in case."

Yet John couldn't help glancing the lobby in awe. He had never seen such a place before even with all of the hospitals he had been to, and he was excited and interested to find out more about the state of hospitals and medicine in the future.

"You know, a hospital might be the perfect place for Cassandra, if she had survived. She loved her plastic surgery, remember? And if she needed to stitch herself together again after being..." John hesitated.

"Blown up?" Sherlock grinned, feeling better already.

"Enough." The Doctor said, shaking his head. "I don't want to...never mind. We'll find out soon enough."

Then he started prattling on about a shop and Sherlock realized the Doctor didn't want to discuss what had happened to Cassandra, for he had destroyed her, in a sense, bringing her back to the station without anyone to attend her. Sherlock pondered this problem, wondering how Cassandra could have survived such an explosion, as the Doctor wandered onto the lift and John rushed in after him to catch up and ask a question.

* * *

Suddenly the lift doors were closing behind John before Rose and Sherlock could react. "Sherlock!" John cried.

Sherlock turned around and rushed over along with Rose, but it was too late.

"Left behind again!" Sherlock grimaced, banging the lift doors. "Just like the Gamestation."

"Don't worry, it's not that bad." Rose said. "There's another lift. We'll just be behind them."

"Okay, fine. But something bad always happens when we get separated like this." Sherlock said as he followed her into the lift.

"I'll admit there's a tendency towards that, but not always." Rose said.

John grimaced, turning around to face the Doctor. "I should have made sure he and Rose kept up with us. He's going to be mad, again."

"Ah, it'll be all right. You'll have a laugh with him about it afterwards." The Doctor grinned. "By the way, better stand over here. Disinfectant spray comes out of that wall behind you."

"Disinfectant spray?" John said, moving to the middle of the lift.

"You'll see." The Doctor said.

"Disinfection." Sherlock scoffed as he and Rose stood in the lift. "What kind of-" And then he coughed as it sprayed right into his mouth. "Blagh, oh this tastes nasty!"

"It's all in my hair." Rose said.

"Mine too." Sherlock grimaced, trying to wipe it out of his tousled hair.

"Oh, this is ingenious." John said as he and the Doctor were sprayed. "Covers up any outside contaminant to prevent infection."

"Yep. Also has a nice minty smell." The Doctor said, sniffing the air.

* * *

Sherlock grimaced. "Smells as horrid as it tastes."

"You said it. I'm never going to be able to wash this off." Rose added.

"Say, are we moving down instead of up?" Sherlock asked.

"Why, what's wrong?" Rose asked.

"I think Ward 26 would be on the 26th floor, not 26th subbasement." Sherlock frowned. "I think we've been diverted."

"You've got to be kidding me." Rose slapped the wall, looking for buttons, and kept repeating Ward 26, but they still went down.

"Just stay calm, Rose, we'll get out of this." Sherlock said, getting out the bug zapper and attempting to work on the lift controls. "We've got to."

"It's not the sonic screwdriver." Rose said, annoyed.

"I know it isn't. I just wish he would give me one. He's always so...controlling, for lack of a better word." Sherlock grunted.

"You said it. Always so certain of himself and what we can do." Rose sighed as she got out her mobile and tried calling the Doctor and John. "I wish he would give us more leeway."

"How is it going with you two?" Sherlock asked, glancing at Rose.

"It's not going anywhere, for lack of a better term." Rose groaned as she wasn't able to reach the Doctor or John. "I thought this phone had super-service, or something like that, able to call home across time and space."

"I think it's blocked." Sherlock said, checking his own mobile reception. "Sometimes it doesn't work if there is a super buffer blocking any sort of reception."

"That doesn't bode well." Rose said. "I wish it would advance between me and the Doctor, just like it did with you and John. But, well, at least we have fun."

"That's true, but not the same." Sherlock said as Rose nodded.

* * *

"So, how have things been going along with you and Rose?" John asked the Doctor, curious after a few minutes of silence between them.

"Ah, it's not something I want to discuss right now." The Doctor said, shaking his head. "Early days, I suppose, and don't want to rush into anything in case..." The Doctor grimaced, thinking. "Don't want to think about it."

"Okay, all right, just wanted to know." John said, shaking his head.

"Fair enough. Sorry if I bit your head off." The Doctor said as he and John reached Ward 26.

"It's fine." John sighed.

The Doctor reminded John of Sherlock sometimes, the way he wanted to avoid discussions about their feelings or anything that might trouble them. Admittedly the Doctor was a long-living alien being, whose personality changed as many times as he regenerated and had experienced centuries of pain and pleasure with other people before he even met Rose.

The nature of his relationship with people like Rose was probably fraught with disaster and regret, and John knew or guessed that this relationship, if it could be called that, with Rose would end in its own time. Just like John and Sherlock would eventually part with the Doctor in their own way.

John didn't know exactly what was the problem or issue with Sherlock, though Sherlock might have insisted it was his sociopathic tendencies.

* * *

Down below, the lift that Sherlock and Rose were on stopped and the doors slid open, revealing a dark, distressed, dismal corridor strewn with rubble. They hesitated a moment, not wanting to get off, as Sherlock checked the controls and cursed.

"What's wrong?" Rose asked, turning to him.

"The circuits are fried. None of the buttons work. We're not getting out of here this way. Have to find the stairs." Sherlock said, staring out into the corridor.

"Okay, just have to be careful." Rose said as they gingerly stepped out of the lift and were immediately confronted by a strange tattooed figure.

"Hello, the humans are clean?" The man asked, smiling.

"Uh, I guess we are." Sherlock said, gripping the bug zapper tightly. "Where are the stairs?"

"This way, Rose Tyler and Sherlock Holmes." The man said, running off.

"All right, we definitely need to find the stairs. Cassandra's down here." Sherlock said.

He zapped the closest lights, hoping to blind the stranger, and then he and Rose ran off in the opposite direction. The stranger briefly cringed at the flash of exploding lights, but then he calmed down and followed after the pair as the lift doors closed.

"You're not getting out that way." The man said in a sing-song voice. "It's blocked."

Indeed, Rose and Sherlock did find the way barred, a dead-end wall and all the other doors sealed without a lock that Sherlock could pick at. There was no way out, as they couldn't even call the lift back or pry open the lift doors, except for the way the stranger offered them, one bright, shining doorway in the distance.

Rose and Sherlock cursed and screamed, shouting for help and tried to call the Doctor and John again. But they were trapped down there and no one was coming to save them. They roamed the hallway, but pent-up and helpless to do anything else, they slowly approached the opening.

Rose now carried a piece of metal she had found and Sherlock held tightly onto the sonic penlight. "We're getting out of here, do you understand me?" Sherlock told the stranger. "We'll see Cassandra and maybe talk to her, but we're getting out."

"All right, if that's what you want. My mistress is this way." The stranger said, leading them on.

* * *

As they entered the room, a decayed home film was playing with a beautiful human woman on the screen at a party. Sherlock recognized the voice as Cassandra's and even the woman's skin looked like her, though she was fully flesh, blood, and bone here on screen.

"You really are a nostalgic type. Maybe too much so." Sherlock said, looking at the footage and then glancing back at the rubbery trampoline woman in the far corner, watching the screen.

"I got bored waiting for you two to come here. What took so long?" Cassandra asked, glancing at her assistant.

"Forgive me, mistress. They were expecting an ambush and they tried to escape." The assistant said.

"That's right, and we're leaving as soon as we can." Sherlock said, holding up the sonic penlight as Rose hoisted her bar. "Show us the way out."

"Oh, grant me the opportunity of at least a short audience to speak to you and plead my case." Cassandra said.

"We can make trouble for you." Sherlock threatened.

"Like you've always made trouble for me." Cassandra growled. "Chip!"

Chip threw a lever and energy beams shot out, trapping Rose and Sherlock in place. "What's happening? Let us go!" Rose shouted.

Sherlock tried to press and turn on his sonic penlight in the hope that it might disrupt the beam, but he couldn't even move a muscle, despite his struggles. Chip watched and stared at Sherlock, fascinated by his appearance.

"Mistress?" Chip asked, turning to Cassandra. "Could you…would you?"

"What?" Cassandra asked, staring at Chip and then at Sherlock. "Oh, right. Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try. Set it up, Chip, you can give it a go."

"Oh, goody!" Chip laughed, unnerving Sherlock as he fiddled with the controls.

"What's going on?" Rose asked.

As she and Cassandra started having a conversation, with Chip pitching in, Sherlock kept glancing at Chip, nervously wondering what he was up to. The clone laughed and sang to himself at times, pausing to examine Sherlock as he adjusted and finagled the controls.

"All set, mistress!" Chip called out.

"Good. Light it up!" Cassandra shouted.

The psychograft activated and both Chip and Cassandra cried out with glee as the light beamed out, blinding Rose and Sherlock. Then a burst of energy emanated from Chip and Cassandra, soaring across the room towards Sherlock and Rose. And everything shut down after a moment with Sherlock, Rose, and Chip collapsing onto the floor.

* * *

Meanwhile, upstairs, the Doctor and John followed one of the cat nurses around Ward 26, looking around for any patient that they might recognize or who might recognize them in turn. But so far they hadn't come across anyone who had invited them here and neither Sherlock nor Rose had made an appearance.

John was worried, wondering what was taking them so long to reach or find them. He tried to call and text Sherlock and Rose once or twice, but he wasn't able to contact them, nor did he receive any messages in turn.

"Communication devices are not permitted in the ward." Sister Jatt said when she caught John looking at his mobile. "It interferes with our devices and disrupts the healing process."

"Oh, don't mind him." The Doctor said, stepping in between Sister Jatt and John. "The phone's completely safe and foolproof. It's shielded well enough not to cause any problems with your signals. And your devices are far more advanced than his, so there shouldn't be a compatibility problem."

"Nevertheless, we ask him to turn off his device until further notice, or keep it at a low vibrate or volume so as not to disturb patients." Sister Jatt said.

"Will do." John told her, a little annoyed.

He might have done the same to other hospital guests and patients in the past, reminding them to turn off their phones in certain areas. But he might have treated them gentler as well and not so blunt, telling them where they could go and call their friends and loved ones without disturbing anyone.

Surely Sister Jatt could have done the same, if she understood how important such things might be to patients, caregivers, family members and their guests? In any case, the Doctor kept asking the nurse about a shop then, perhaps hoping to distract her from John's phone as John looked around, intrigued by the level of care and treatments available here.

John asked a few questions, though the Doctor reminded him to avoid using such future knowledge in his own 21st century practice. John nodded and agreed, though he wished that he could just borrow one of the cures and treatments freely available here.

Now more than ever, John was aware of the temptation that Adam had faced on his one trip to Satellite Five, and wished that he could, just for one instance, disrupt the laws of time travel to gain future knowledge. But the Doctor was here, watching him, the last and ultimate authority on time travel as a Time Lord.

And so John had to ignore and divert his impulses, no matter how strong they might be, or face the Time Lord's wrath and lose his privilege. So he kept going back to his mobile and checking to see if Rose or Sherlock had contacted them.

"Nothing. What is the matter with them? Where are they?" John asked.

"Patience, John. Everything will be all right." The Doctor tried to assure him.

"Easy for you to say." John scoffed. "You've got more lives than a cat. Sherlock, Rose, and I only have one."

The Doctor blanched, a little hurt and offended as he tried to speak to John, yet could barely get any words out. John realized how cruel and callous he sounded, and might have thought of apologizing for bringing that fact up, but he couldn't.

It was true, no matter what the Doctor might think or how painfully aware of it he was. They weren't Time Lords and they couldn't regenerate like he could if things went terribly wrong. They were trapped in their own bodies, their own time periods, and their own lives without any escape or possibility of renewal open to them.

* * *

Dwelling on such thoughts, John was annoyed when the Duke of Manhattan's assistant kept hounding them while the Doctor insisted the Duke wouldn't survive Petrifold Regression, despite Sister Jatt's assurance otherwise. John frowned, thinking the Doctor had lousy bedside manner, when suddenly both he and the Doctor spotted the patient they had come to see.

"The Face of Boe? What is he doing here?" John gasped, staring at the alien head in the vat. "He was on Platform One with us, just like…Cassandra."

John turned to the Doctor. "Do you suppose he has anything to do with Cassandra being here?"

The Doctor shook his head, staring at the Face of Boe with a strange expression. "No, I don't think it's entirely more than a strange coincidence. Unless he knew what she was doing here."

"How could he know that without some foreknowledge?" John asked.

"Exactly right." The Doctor said as he and John approached the Face of Boe with a word to Sister Jatt to look for Sherlock and Rose.

"Do you think Rose and Sherlock are looking for Cassandra?" John asked the Doctor.

"I hope not, though that might explain…we'll see in a moment." The Doctor said as he and John spoke to Novice Hame about the Face of Boe.

She told them that Boe was dying of old age after thousands, maybe even millions of years of existence. And as the Doctor kindly spoke to the Face of Boe, reintroducing himself as if to an old friend, suddenly John knew without a doubt who the Face of Boe was.

"Is that Jack?" John said, gasping as the Doctor sadly turned to him. "You knew as soon as you walked in here and saw him, right?"

"I'm afraid so. He was frozen in time, a fixed point in time and space, near immortal. But even that wore off and began to fade as his body deteriorated, and well…you see the result before you." The Doctor gestured.

John gaped at the slumbering Face of Boe, his old friend, Captain Jack Harkness. "I remember when we were on Platform One how the Face of Boe spoke to me and Sherlock, like he knew us. I didn't know then who Jack was, but…god, I can't believe this."

John turned to the Doctor, glumly staring at Jack, too. "Is this how it ends for him? Stuck here in this hospital, billions of years later after our sun burns up the Earth with all of the other humans dead?"

"Technically he wasn't from Earth, but…I suppose this is it for him." The Doctor sighed.

"What a life." John murmured to himself.

They both stood there, silently reflecting on what they had just learned as Novice Hame sat there, monitoring the Face of Boe's support system. The Doctor went to fetch some water for them, perhaps to get away for a moment, and after he had returned, they spoke to Novice Hame and asked after her circumstances and the Face of Boe's, not quite ready to call him Jack.

John mulled over this latest development, depressed at the thought of seeing Jack die here and now, so far into the future in such a lonely, decayed state. Suddenly John realized that this was the Doctor's fate, too.

That no matter how many lives he lived, how many times he regenerated, one day he might end up in a hospital like this one, light-years away from the remnants of his home planet in another time and place. What would that be like for the Doctor, last of the Time Lords, to say good-night without…would there be anyone there for him, like there was someone here for Boe, or Captain Jack?

The Doctor, last of the Time Lords, without a name of his own, and perhaps without a friend of his own there at the end.

Trying to dismiss such sad thoughts, John quickly checked his phone again, hiding his tears as Novice Hame went on about the legends and stories that surrounded Boe.

"The lonely _god_? Seriously?" John asked, staring at the Doctor, certain that was a reference to the last Time Lord. "That's a bit…haughty, the god part."

"Never mind that. It's just a myth." The Doctor said, shifting in his seat, uncomfortable at being called that. He certainly didn't think of himself that way, no matter what sort of knowledge or abilities he had.

"No, it's what he said, the lonely god." Novice Hame pointed at the Face of Boe. "Or stud-muffin, I believe, is the other term he used."

John laughed. "He still likes you, Doctor."

"Shut up." The Doctor blushed and then started laughing as well, quietly to stop himself from weeping. Then they sighed and laid back, waiting and thinking to themselves.

* * *

Meanwhile, down below, Chip-Sherlock rose up, gasping as he examined his new self. "Is this me, mistress? Is this who I am now?" He flexed his hand through his hair, pulling at the curls.

Cassandra-Rose also gasped, excited as she examined her new appendages, and then was shocked as she ran to the mirror to realize that she was more lower-class. Still, she liked her new body shape.

"Of course it is." Cassandra-Rose sighed, looking over Chip-Sherlock. "I have to admit, he has certain advantages over your old form, but I still liked that pattern."

Chip-Sherlock stared down at his former self and shook his head. "No, mistress. This new me is better, I think. He has a mind, a strange mind I can't possibly comprehend, but given time, perhaps I will. He is certainly stronger and louder than my old self, and quite different in many ways."

"Well, just as long as you remember who you are and that you have the advantage over him now, for all the smarts that he had." Cassandra-Rose said.

"Yes, mistress." Chip-Sherlock nodded, gazing reflectively and regretfully over his old form. Then he decided to store his old self in a safer place, not wanting to leave his former self lying on the floor. He dragged him off, and then mourned the loss of his mistress's former skin and brain-meat, along with Cassandra-Rose.

"Well, there is no going back for me now, just like there should be no going back for you." Cassandra-Rose told Chip-Sherlock.

"Yes, of course, mistress. I understand that now." Chip-Sherlock sighed, a little worried and concerned as to what his new self would be like.

He understood some things about his new self that he hadn't known before, like there was a Sir John whom Master Sherlock adored, and there was the Doctor, and Rose, Lestrade, and Mycroft, and Molly, and so many other people and things that this Sherlock knew of.

Admittedly Chip had admired Sherlock's body and wanted to try the switch alongside his mistress, so that he might continue serving her in a new form. But he hadn't realized how complicated this whole thing would be. It absolutely confused and bewildered him, almost exhausting, but at least this new body and mind could take the strain.

* * *

"Oh, mistress?" Chip-Sherlock said, remembering. "Should I take down the reception buffer now?"

"What? Oh, yes, I suppose so." Cassandra-Rose said.

Chip-Sherlock took down the barrier, and suddenly their mobile phones were ringing off the hook, with text alerts coming in. Chip-Sherlock checked his phone along with mistress Cassandra-Rose, and he started to panic.

"Oh, dear mistress, what should I do? What should I say? It's Sir John calling Master Sherlock."

"Just act like Master Sherlock for a little while longer. We have got to keep up this pretense and find out as much as we can about this place before we can take off from here in our new bodies. Hopefully we might even get a trip on that TARDIS of theirs. That would really give us an advantage." Cassandra-Rose smiled.

"Of course, mistress. A brilliant plan." Chip-Sherlock said.

He attempted to recall as much as he could about Master Sherlock's behavior from their brief encounter and access as much as Master Sherlock's memories as he possibly could. Finally satisfied with what he knew, Chip-Sherlock answered the phone.

"Hello, John, how are you?" Chip-Sherlock said, catching himself before he said 'Sir John'.

"Oh, Sherlock, thank god you finally answered! What happened to you and Rose? What took you so long to answer? Did you see Cassandra or anything like that?" John said.

Cassandra-Rose was talking to the Doctor in a cringe-worthy way, which made Chip-Sherlock wince. "Try talking to him more naturally, mistress." Chip-Sherlock whispered to Cassandra-Rose, covering up his phone. "He might suspect something is wrong otherwise. You sound a lot like her."

"Thanks, Chip, I think." Cassandra-Rose whispered back to Chip-Sherlock, surprised by his confident behavior.

"You're welcome, mistress." Chip-Sherlock smiled back at her.

"Hello, Sherlock?" John said on the other side, not hearing anything louder than a whisper.

"No, John, we didn't see Cassandra or anything like that. We got lost for a while, though, the lift was diverted. Listen, we'll come back upstairs in a bit. I think the lift is no longer broken. And I think we should have another look around here, all of us together, investigating. Something is amiss here, I think." Chip-Sherlock said.

"All right, sounds good. See you in a bit." John said, hanging up his mobile.

The Doctor also hung up his phone, frowning to himself. "Did you talk to Rose, too?" John said.

"Yeah, I did. And she sounded funny for a minute and then she didn't react at all when I told her about the Face of Boe and Captain Jack. It was like she didn't even know him."

"Yeah, that is weird." John said, a little worried. "Sherlock sounded fine enough, though. He didn't sound strange, though he was…a little stiff and I think he was talking to someone else for a minute there. Maybe Rose?"

"Yeah, she was whispering something, too." The Doctor said. "We better keep a close eye on them when they come."

"Yeah, just to be safe." John said, hoping nothing was wrong with their friends and lovers.


	5. Being Cured

Hello, back again. I was busy with some other projects for a while, not to mention holiday, but now I'm continuing New Earth with a special spin.

* * *

As John and the Doctor waited for Rose and Sherlock to join them, they encountered the Duke of Manhattan again, completely cured within minutes of a currently incurable disease. The Doctor was flabbergasted and questioned the feline nuns, who refused to answer as John attempted to extract the remedy for analysis.

But the nurse caught him and bared her fangs, claws flashing out. "Stay away from him." She hissed.

The Doctor managed to excuse John and get him out of there without getting them both kicked out of the hospital or hurt. They quickly retreated from the Duke's bedside, talking in low conversation.

"I can't believe it. Something must be going on here, especially with Sherlock and Rose disappearing like this. Do you suppose Cassandra could be involved in this somehow?" John asked.

"I don't know. It's not really her style to help others like this, unless it's helping herself as well." The Doctor said. "Perhaps she or someone else could be funding these sort of experiments, or testing some kind of cure-all, to help themselves?"

"Whatever it is, it's probably not entirely legal or justified if the nurses or nuns are hiding something about their research or medical practices." John said.

"Especially as futuristic and enhanced as these cures for incurable cases might be. Let's take a look around here." The Doctor said, steering John around as they investigated all of the cases being treated in this ward, the types of medicines and treatments being used to heal these problems.

The Doctor occasionally asked John for his medical advice or opinion on the standards being used here, but John found himself floored by how radically different and advanced all of these treatments and diseases were. Far more complex and difficult to comprehend than anything he had ever studied on 21st century Earth, he couldn't understand all of the concepts and variables being brandied about here, with symptoms and infections that could cause numerous, varying amounts of damage to an otherwise healthy body.

"How is it that we've never been infected by all of these extraterrestrial diseases and viruses wherever we've traveled?" John asked.

"Usually the TARDIS has a pretty good ventilation system, designed to keep all of its inhabitants healthy, not just Time Lords." The Doctor said, turning to John. "Any unhealthy contamination or virus is expelled, and it sprays a fine mist, a mix of healthy bacteria and what you might call a booster shot of inoculations now and again for whatever time period or place we wind up at."

John gaped at the Doctor. "Oh goody, I'm getting a shot whenever I get in or out of the TARDIS. I'm not getting that image out of my head."

The Doctor laughed as Rose and Sherlock finally showed up there. "There you are!" The Doctor cried.

"Here I am!" Cassandra-Rose smiled triumphantly as Chip-Sherlock cowered down a little, nervously glancing around at everything and everyone as they arrived on the ward floor.

"That's not strange or unusual at all," John said a little sarcastically as the Doctor nudged him before they went to greet and cautiously examine their lover and friend.

Chip-Sherlock relaxed slightly, instinctively at the sight of Sir John from his host's memories and even went in for a little kiss and hug, a sensation that Chip-Sherlock found comforting and reassuring. He needed and wanted that experience, never having felt anything like this at all, and he smiled, a little giddy and reeling at this feeling.

John exchanged that kiss and hug, yet it felt a little awkward and odd as well, like they had never done this before. "Sherlock, are you feeling okay?" John asked, parting from him.

"I'm fine, John. Perfectly healthy and normal," Chip-Sherlock said, a giggle escaping from him before he suppressed it.

"Okay, then," John said, still watching Sherlock as he grabbed John's hand, their arms swinging back and forth as they followed after the Doctor and Rose, looking over the patients. It was one of the weirdest things John had ever experienced.

* * *

The Doctor babbled, telling Rose and Sherlock everything he and John had seen around here in the past hour or so, and John added in his own comments, too. Cassandra-Rose merely watched and observed the Doctor, quite interested in his new appearance, while Chip-Sherlock squeezed John's hand, and tried to take in everything, loving every minute of it.

"So you've got some patients who are being cured when they shouldn't be cured, is that right?" Chip-Sherlock attempted to act like a detective.

"That's about the length and breadth of it, yes." John said.

Chip-Sherlock shrugged. "Why bother with it, though? These people are healthy and living when they should be dying, and that's all right, isn't it?"

John sighed. "I don't know. I mean, it might be a good thing, especially for a medical professional and the patients being cured. Yet if the means and methods that produced such results are questionable, to say the least, then we should find out the cause and meaning behind all of this and figure out what we should or shouldn't do."

Chip-Sherlock slowly nodded. "I suppose in that case, we should investigate. Solve the problem and look for clues. Where do you have in mind, Doctor, as the first place where we start to look?"

However, at that moment, the Doctor and Cassandra-Rose were locked in an intense, long kiss, which Chip-Sherlock and John both stared at in shock. Once they parted, Cassandra-Rose pointed out the terminal where they should start their search, and Chip-Sherlock tagged after her.

"What happened, mistress?" Chip-Sherlock asked Cassandra-Rose in a low voice. "I thought you hated the Doctor."

"I do indeed despise him, yet he's so dreamy and wonderful-oh, god!" Cassandra-Rose groaned. "This Rose girl has such intense feelings and hormones for the Doctor that she can barely control them. I got carried away, that's all, and I was a little interested in his new body as well." She glanced back at him. "I must admit he is attractive as hell. What about you and John? I saw you kiss him."

Chip-Sherlock giggled. "He is indeed a most handsome and splendid man. I can see why Master Sherlock likes Sir John very much. Plus, I thought it might be a good thing to know what it's like to touch and kiss a man, and keep him by my side. I have never done it before, you know, and it's so nice."

"I know." Cassandra-Rose frowned to herself. "I kept you by my side always, and you will remain with me, won't you?"

"Yes, mistress, I will." Chip-Sherlock sighed, lowering his head. "I haven't forgotten my place. I am your servant. But couldn't I keep Sir John with me as well? Stand beside him as well as you?"

"You're getting quite pushy in your new body. This Sherlock must be a bad influence on you. Still, I don't see why you shouldn't have a toy to play with every now and again, especially if you remain loyal to me. You will be good, won't you?"

"Yes, mistress, I will." Chip-Sherlock bowed his head. "I will honor you and Sir John as well."

"Good, or else I'll transfer you back to your body, and you'll never be Sherlock again." Cassandra-Rose warned him.

"I know, mistress, I understand." Chip-Sherlock cowered slightly.

* * *

Meanwhile, John and the Doctor looked at each other, a little bit surprised as they hung back a bit while the others went ahead. "She just kissed you. Rose just kissed you, Doctor."

"Yeah, she did. I'm stunned as well. Still, it's a good thing…isn't it?" The Doctor asked, frowning to himself.

"You should know!" John said. "So what do you think about Rose?"

"She's definitely not acting like herself. What about Sherlock?" The Doctor asked John.

"He's definitely odd, off, and not like his normal self, I mean." John said. "He's a little bit sweeter and kinder and laughing or giggling so much. He kept holding my hand, too."

"Giggling? That's definitely not like Sherlock at all." The Doctor remarked.

"How are they doing?" John said, both looking ahead to see Sherlock cowering as Rose took a commanding, almost haughty stance over him.

"Definitely not like themselves." The Doctor frowned as John grimaced, worried.

They caught up with the other two at the computer terminal. Rose suggested they search the sub-frame while Sherlock remained silent and demure, without an idea or a word in edgewise as he clutched at John's hand as if for protection.

"Can you see anything, Sherlock?" John asked him.

"See anything where?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"Your mind palace." John said.

"My what?"

"Your—oh, god, Sherlock." John whispered, clutching his hand in turn.

"I'm sorry." He said, aware something was wrong or he had done or said something bad.

The Doctor grimaced, realizing the full extent of the damage to Rose and Sherlock, but he couldn't do anything at the moment to help them and he didn't want to worry John any more than he was now. As soon as they found the location of the Intensive Care unit, they set off for it, not really speaking to one another.

Chip-Sherlock remained silent, holding onto John, while Cassandra-Rose glanced back at him and the Doctor. She knew the jig was almost up and their disguise was falling apart, but she intended to keep up the pretense for as long as she possibly could until she had to use her perfume.

Chip-Sherlock, meanwhile, mulled over his failure, wondering where he had gone wrong, and hoping that he could still keep Sir John at the end of all this, no matter what he knew or discovered. John, meanwhile, toyed with ideas and possibilities for what had gone wrong, none of them any good, as he wished he had the real Sherlock here to help him solve this problem.

* * *

Down below, they found the intensive care unit, row after row of small enclosed cubicles containing hundreds of sickened and dying individuals. Cassandra-Rose was disgusted and Chip-Sherlock fearfully recoiled as well, yet he also recognized some of the markings and barcodes on their bodies.

"They're clones," Chip-Sherlock gasped, examining others locked inside their cells. "All full-grown, entirely human clones."

"What does that mean?" John asked.

"Some clones are forced-grown, not entirely human with half-lives and unstable, deteriorating cells." Chip-Sherlock said, turning to John. "They don't last for very long, but are cheap enough to mass-produce and sell, and usable for a few good years of hard labor before they wither and die."

"God, that's horrible." John said, gaping at Sherlock.

Chip-Sherlock nodded and turned back to the cells. "These clones, however, are fully human. You can tell by the marks and barcodes on them. They're certainly custom-made, but on such a wide scale, it's not cheap at all. Yet you get fully human cells, quality guaranteed, no blemishes."

"How do you know all about this?" John asked.

Chip-Sherlock turned to John, hesitant. "I read about it?"

The Doctor, meanwhile, was horrified to the use they were being put to as lab infected with every known virus and affliction in the galaxy. Cassandra-Rose wasn't so sympathetic as Novice Hame appeared, having followed them, to explain what was going on here and why.

"I guess you would need quality human clones that could last so long and give you comparable results to your human patients." Chip-Sherlock remarked.

"Shut up!" The Doctor shouted at Chip-Sherlock, who fearfully lowered his head.

John grimaced, disgusted by all of this slaughter and misery in the name of medical science, as he wondered what it was like for these clones, who had never known any existence but this wretched, painful, short one. Chip-Sherlock shuddered, imagining himself in the others' place, and was glad for a moment that he had not been in such a position.

But then again, Sherlock had known a better life than he had as Cassandra's servant…Chip-Sherlock shook his head, unable to figure out what was best for him now. The Doctor denied the value of this sort of exploitation, which John agreed with, though not with how the Doctor expressed it. Then the Doctor questioned what the cat nuns had done to Sherlock and Rose with John agreeing.

"Oh, Sir John, I'm so sorry." Chip-Sherlock said.

"Sir John? Where did that come from?" John asked.

"My name is Chip, and I serve the mistress. Especially whenever she needs moisturizing." Chip-Sherlock said.

"Moisturizing—you're one of Cassandra's attendants?" John asked, recoiling from him as Cassandra-Rose spritzed the Doctor, who then passed out. "How did you get in there?"

"It's a mind-graft, that's what it's called. Hold on!" Chip-Sherlock cried, grabbing hold of John and stopping him from preventing Cassandra-Rose from carrying the Doctor into one of the sick cells.

Cassandra-Rose yelled at the cat nun, who scurried off to fetch the matron.

"Let go of me! Let go of the Doctor! Sherlock!" John cried, struggling against Chip-Sherlock's stranglehold.

"Chip, put him in one of the cells!" Cassandra-Rose ordered, turning to her attendant.

"No, mistress, you promised I could keep him." Chip-Sherlock said, maintaining his hold on John. "I won't let him go, I promise."

"All right, fine then, just a spritz to relax him." Cassandra-Rose said, squirting a bit of her perfume into John's nose and knocking him out.

"Thanks, mistress. It was getting harder to keep hold of him." Chip-Sherlock said, relaxing a little and setting John down on the ground.

"I know that, and the knock-out perfume is not going to last for very long. You're not going to be able to keep hold of him forever. He'll resist you every step of the way because you're not him. You're not Sherlock. You can't expect him to accept you for who you are, just because you took his lover-boy's body." Cassandra-Rose told Chip-Sherlock.

Chip-Sherlock sighed, staring down at John. "You're right, mistress, I suppose. I thought it might be easier to keep hold of him and make him come willingly. But that's not going to happen, not like this. He won't love me like he loves Sherlock, will he?"

"Certainly not. He despises you for what you've done to Sherlock and you took advantage of him without his knowledge of who you were. That might seem unfair to him."

"I'm sorry, mistress. I had no idea how complex this love business could be." Chip-Sherlock sighed. "I miss being in my old body again, back when things were simple and I didn't have such conflicting feelings for another man who didn't love me, but loved the other instead."

Cassandra-Rose grimaced. "It does sound complicated when you say it like that."

* * *

In that moment, the Doctor stirred inside his cell, and Cassandra-Rose turned back to Chip-Sherlock. "You better take hold of your John, now. He'll probably wake up a few minutes from now, and it might be better to ensure that he doesn't escape the first chance he gets."

"Yes, mistress." Chip-Sherlock said, hoisting up the unconscious John as Cassandra-Rose confronted the Doctor in his cell.

"What have you done to John?" The Doctor asked, seeing Chip-Sherlock holding him.

"He's fine, Sir Doctor, just unconscious for the moment." Chip-Sherlock said. "I won't let any harm come to him."

"Poor thing's got feelings for the man, which I can't say I blame him. He is rather cute." Cassandra-Rose remarked.

The Doctor frowned. "Cassandra and whoever you are-"

"Chip, I serve the mistress." Chip-Sherlock repeated.

"—Chip, you're not to harm any of them, is that understood?"

"Of course, Sir Doctor. I serve the mistress and John." Chip-Sherlock said.

Before the Doctor or Cassandra-Rose could make a remark, the cat nuns arrived, and Cassandra-Rose negotiated with them as John woozily revived. "What's happening over…oh, god!" He cried, remembering what was going on as he stared up at his lover's face, possessed by another being. "Let go of Sherlock." He ordered.

"I can't, Sir John, or at least I haven't tried." Chip-Sherlock frowned to himself. "I wonder if it is possible to move from body to body if my mind is in this form?"

"You haven't tried? Then try it on me." John said. He punched and kicked Chip-Sherlock, who doubled over in pain. "Sorry, Sherlock." John half-muttered to his absent lover as he slipped out of Chip-Sherlock's grasp.

"Wait a minute, Sir John, I'm sorry!" Chip-Sherlock cried at him. "I didn't understand!"

"How could you not know this is how I would react?" John barked at Chip-Sherlock as he rushed over to the Doctor's cell and attempted to free him.

"Plan B!" Cassandra-Rose shouted at Chip-Sherlock as her negotiations with the cat nuns failed, too.

"Yes, mistress!" Chip-Sherlock cried, pulling the lever without much forethought as to the consequences, just following her orders.

Suddenly all of the cell doors on that level flipped open and the Doctor got out of his with John helping him. But so did all of the sick clones as the Doctor and the others fled, leaving the cat nuns behind.

"This body can certainly run!" Chip-Sherlock marveled.

"Yeah, well, keep running! He's not going to get sick, not on my watch!" John said.

"Yes, Sir John!"

"Stop calling me that!"

* * *

Now all of the sick clones were freed everywhere, but they kept going. The lifts were locked out, so Cassandra-Rose and Chip-Sherlock redirected them to their basement lair. Chip-Sherlock found out that his other's mind could run at a very fast pace, even when he was moving quickly as well. He was able to dodge and outmaneuver the sick clones, keeping up with the others and warning them to avoid obstacles.

"This is amazing!" Chip-Sherlock cried, reveling in the moment. "Such a spectacular thing, adrenaline with the blood pumping and the mind racing!"

"Just keep going!" John shouted back at him until they finally reached the lair.

Cassandra-Rose realized the back entrance was blocked as the Doctor examined the psychograft device and Chip-Sherlock ran over to check his old body with John following after him. "Ah, safe and sound, the old heap of blood and bones." Chip-Sherlock muttered to himself, not amused.

"He's a clone? You're a clone?" John said, seeing the barcode and pattern on the body, and remembering what Chip had said.

"That's right, a force-grown clone at that. I'm dying and decaying every day and all I've done through the years is serve the mistress, nothing more." Chip-Sherlock muttered. "I just wanted to know what it was like to be in another person's body, experience new things, and love another man in turn."

John sighed. "I'm sorry your life wound up like this, but this is not the way to go about things."

"You're right, I suppose. Cassandra told me that as well. Yet I can't accept it, I won't go back to my old body, not right now." Chip-Sherlock sighed, aggravated.

"Then take me instead, right now. Switch bodies if you can. We might need Sherlock to help us figure a way out, especially with Cassandra taking over the Doctor." John nodded over to where the switch was happening between Rose and the Doctor with Cassandra's essence moving between them.

"I'll try." Chip said before he moved from Sherlock's body to John's body instead.

Sherlock gasped, reeling for a moment as his brain processed all of the strange, unusual things that had been happening while Chip-John marveled over his new body. "I'm short, why am I so short? And do I sound like I have a frog in my throat?" He shook his head and shuddered. "God, a lot of terrible, bloody memories as well."

Sherlock grimaced and said, "You stay away from him, Chip. John doesn't deserve to have you damaging his mind any further."

"Sorry, Master Sherlock." Chip-John bowed his head.

"Don't call me that, not in his voice." Sherlock insisted.

They watched as Cassandra-Doctor marveled over her body and teased Rose in turn as Sherlock shook his head. "This is turning into a bloody disaster of a nightmare. We need the Doctor!" He shouted at Cassandra-Doctor.

"Well, since you insist," Cassandra remarked, and suddenly she flitted across to Sherlock.

"Oh, it's so roomy and spacious inside this swelled head of his!" Cassandra-Sherlock cried, patting Sherlock's head. "It certainly is a mind palace. And he needs more conditioner. It's getting a little dry and tangled up here."

"Do you want me to moisturize you, mistress?" Chip-John said, bowing to his mistress/master.

"Quite, well, we don't really have time for that right now." Cassandra-Sherlock said. "We better run."

The Doctor and Rose gaped at the sight and then at each other and then they started laughing as Chip-John and Cassandra-Rose stared at them. "Stop it, it's not that funny." Cassandra-Sherlock said. "Just for that, I'm coming back for you, Doctor."

"And I wonder what it's like to be the Rose girl." Chip remarked.

"No, no, no!" Both the Doctor and Rose shouted, too late as the switch occurred, unable to stop it now.

Sherlock and John gasped in shock, coughing a little bit as Chip-Rose walked around, bouncing. "You're right, mistress, it's certainly springy and buoyant. I especially like the hair." Chip-Rose waved her hair around, smiling.

Cassandra-Doctor sighed, examining Rose. "We could see what it's like the other way around. You haven't been inside this body yet."

"Okay," Chip said and he and Cassandra switched places in mid-air.

"What is going on here? This is just crazy." John said, shaking his head.

"I happen to agree with you there. People are dying or in danger, and we're playing musical chairs with bodies!" Sherlock remarked.

"Ah!" Chip-Doctor cried in horror, clasping his hands to the side of his head. "Make it stop! The pain, the agony, so many bad, horrible memories full of monsters and menace and war."

"All right, Chip, it's okay. Go find a safer head to reside in, then." Cassandra-Rose reassured him.

"Yes, mistress." Chip sighed as he transferred back to Sherlock.

"Better?" Cassandra-Rose asked.

"Better." Chip-Sherlock smiled.

"Not better." Both the Doctor and John said, frowning.

"What do you want us to do, then?" Cassandra-Rose sighed.

Suddenly the infected clones burst into the room. "Run!" Chip-Sherlock cried and they started off once more, heading towards the ladder.

* * *

Climbing up the lift shaft, Chip-Sherlock pushed John up whenever he struggled, and Cassandra-Rose attempted to keep up. She was nearly grabbed and pulled down by Matron Clasp, who cried out about sickness in the human world.

"Mistress!" Chip-Sherlock cried, panicked.

Cassandra-Rose kicked her off, though, and the infected clones grabbed the cat-nun-nurse. They finally reached some lift doors, but the Doctor refused to open them until Cassandra left Rose's body, causing Chip-Sherlock and John to groan. Thus began another sequence of musical chairs with bodies as Cassandra bounced around, and wound up inside one of the infected clones.

Finally the Doctor opened the lift doors, though still not satisfied with Chip possessing Sherlock, and then Cassandra's spirit flitted back up again and entered Rose's body. Yet she had gained a different perspective inside the infected's head, and even Chip marveled at what she had realized.

"Is this what it's like for you, Chip?" Cassandra-Rose asked.

"Yes, I suppose so." Chip-Sherlock lowered his head as John stared at him.

"I can see why you're so miserable." Cassandra-Rose said.

The Doctor sighed. "Come on then."

They continued on to Ward 26, where the Doctor began gathering medical supplies, all the cures for the illnesses that they had created. John, Chip-Sherlock, and Cassandra-Rose helped out before the Doctor raced out to the lift. Cassandra-Rose caught a ride with him, leaving John and Chip-Sherlock upstairs to monitor the situation throughout the hospital.

As the boys sat before the security monitors, Chip-Sherlock turned to John. "I can't stay in this body forever, I know. I'll go back downstairs and back to my own body when this is all over."

"Thanks. It's for the best, you know. Neither one of us would've been happy like this. Me, you, and Sherlock, too." John said.

"I suppose, but I'm afraid, too. Suppose I take another…" He stared at John. "No, I suppose that's not going to work out either."

John sighed. "How long have you got?"

"I don't really know. My body isn't doing well, I'm afraid. I was already experiencing some symptoms." Chip-Sherlock lowered his head. "It doesn't last very long."

John clutched Chip-Sherlock's hand. "I'm sorry."

"One last kiss?" Chip-Sherlock asked.

"All right, I can give you that." John leaned and kissed Chip-Sherlock as passionately as he could, knowing it was another man who possessed his lover's body.

Suddenly Chip shook his head and realized that it was John's head, and he was staring at Sherlock in turn. "Boy, that was some kiss. I lost my bearings. Sorry about that." Chip-John said.

Sherlock grimaced. "I hate being taken advantage of like that and I can't imagine what John's been going through, seeing me like this."

"Sorry. He's handled it pretty well, despite his grief and anger. He's a very understanding person, and a lot stronger than he seems."

"I know. I've been through a few adventures with him and he's pretty amazing at times." Sherlock smiled, then shook his head. "Strange to be talking about him while looking at him."

"I know, it's…" Chip-John hesitated and shook his head. "I shouldn't have done what I did, and I'm sorry for what happened to you and Rose today."

Sherlock sighed. "It's a little breathtaking, I suppose, to experience and know a world you haven't seen before. A world you didn't have a chance to be in, and get to meet and know new people that you wouldn't have gotten the chance to meet if you hadn't taken a risk and broken some rules. I've broken some rules in the past and met such people. John's one of them, I suppose. But there's always that fine line, you know, the one that you don't cross, or else you're no better than the worst people. I'm glad you haven't crossed that line, Chip."

Chip-John slowly nodded. "It was tempting, considering this is my last day, but…I'm not going to cross that line. I know Cassandra might've crossed that line, but I'm thinking…we should give her that chance."

Sherlock lifted an eyebrow. "What are you saying?"

Chip-John raised his head. "Get me back to my body. Take me back upstairs. I offer myself to Cassandra. If she possesses me, then we die."

Sherlock sat back, gaping at Chip-John. "You are good. You've thought this through."

"Cassandra won't leave well enough alone, now that she doesn't have a body of her own. She will continue to possess whatever body she can get a hold of. If it's me, she knows it's a risk with my short lifespan, but I'm a willing host. She might take that chance, not knowing exactly how long I've got. This could be the time to trap her. She and I, we might be too weak then for her to move on again."

Sherlock gasped, amazed. "You've learned a lot today."

Chip-John nodded. "I learned from the best."

Suddenly on the monitor, Cassandra-Rose and the Doctor appeared in the lobby, and they were curing all of the infected clones. "This is what the Doctor does best." Sherlock said, pointing at the monitor. "Helping everyone he can, curing them if there's a way. But sometimes…there isn't one."

Chip-John nodded. "Even doctors have to be aware of that."

* * *

It was fun to mess around with the different combinations, and I feel like Chip deserved more of a chance to grow.


	6. Lust and Mourning

Well, here we are, got it out just after The Six Thatchers. Man, that was an episode, though the ending did feel a little off, wondering about that a little. Anyway, here's the end of New Earth and beginning of Tooth and Claw-I had fun with this as well! (Haven't seen the new Victoria series yet with Jenna Coleman, looking forward to that as well.)

* * *

Chip-John left soon after to find his body and restore himself while Sherlock walked out of the security office, mulling over everything that had happened today as he wandered through the abandoned Ward 26. Suddenly he heard a faint voice singing in the distance and paused, vaguely remembering something that John and the Doctor had said while Chip inhabited him.

"Jack?" Sherlock turned around and headed toward the Face of Boe floating in his vat.

"'Oh, my girl, my girl, my precious girl, what is this man to do.'" The Face of Boe, Jack, sang. "'So reel me in, my precious girl. Come on, take me home. Cause my body's tired of travelling and my heart don't wish to roam.'"

"Nice song."

"An old favorite of mine. I think it hits the charts for you just before next Christmas."

"Jack, I know it's been eons for you, but can you tell me anything about Torchwood or Moriarty? Is the Master involved at all?"

"Ah, Torchwood, such fond memories." The Face of Boe shook his head. "No, I can't tell you anything yet, but you'll find out more soon enough."

Sherlock frowned as the Face of Boe kept singing while the Doctor and Cassandra-Rose soon joined them. The Doctor complimented the song as well and briefly spoke to Jack, asking for the secret he was supposed to reveal, but Jack refused to talk.

"Oh, why are you being so tight-lipped today?" Sherlock asked, bending down and tapping the tank. "Come on, Jack, open up."

"Sherlock, please leave him alone. He's old, ancient, and wise now. Show some respect." The Doctor said.

"Wise am I? You think I've grown up a little?" Face of Boe asked.

"Certainly have a lot more experience now."

"That's true, but I'm not that old and ancient now, am I, Doctor? I must admit things haven't exactly been the same since I lost the bod, but I still look pretty good for my age, don't you think?"

"You look great. Ten pounds lighter if I do say so myself." The Doctor said.

"And with a swelled head still that fills up an entire tank." Sherlock said.

"Ha, Mr. Mind Palace Smarty-Pants-" Jack said.

"With a cool coat. Too bad you can't wear pants or cool coats anymore." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, what's with you today?" The Doctor asked.

"Nothing, it's just today." Sherlock shrugged.

"God, I miss pants and coats." Jack sighed. "The way I would ruffle my hair, standing on top of a roof."

"Did you still stand on rooftops even after the Sycorax left?" Sherlock laughed. "That's ridiculous, why would you?"

"I'm not staying around here for any more abuse from you, Sherlock. Bye." Jack said, with some final parting words for the Doctor before he vanished.

"Why'd you have to insult him like that, Sherlock? He could've helped us."

"Well, he didn't help us, he wouldn't tell us anything. And why would he? 'For the third time, the last time', what a load of…rubbish." Sherlock frowned, wondering what that portended to for Jack or for them.

"Probably would mess things up timewise if he did." The Doctor said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I think he got pretty uppity as well as enigmatic. The Face of Boe, who goes around calling himself the Face of Boe?"

The Doctor sighed. "It creates a certain amount of aura and prestige. Besides, he's millions of years old now, he deserves some credit."

"It was all because of me and Rose, you know, the Bad Wolf, that he's the Face of Boe."

"I know, and I don't think he forgets that." The Doctor said.

* * *

Sherlock lowered his head, feeling ashamed a moment, as he wondered just how much Jack had suffered in his long, long life without any sort of reprieve. And here he was enjoying himself, not thinking of the consequences of his actions, but eventually he feared it would catch up with him and the rest.

Truth be told, the real reason why he'd been annoyed with Jack was that he wouldn't reveal anything about Torchwood or Moriarty. He was getting frustrated and angry that he couldn't solve either one of those mysteries, trying to figure out if they were connected, and who or what they were.

"Have you all forgotten about me?" Cassandra-Rose said, waving her hand and shaking her head. "Typical for you boys, bantering and babbling on as you do. You completely forget about her sometimes, don't you?"

"What are you talking about?" The Doctor asked, turning around to face her as Sherlock glanced away, remembering what Rose had told him in the lift.

"She can't get a word in edgewise sometimes, with the way you all carry on, or at least that's how she feels. She wants you to pay a little more attention to her, Doctor. That kiss was intentional on her part."

"I see." The Doctor nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

He hounded Cassandra, though, to leave Rose's body as she attempted to negotiate with him while Chip and John returned upstairs.

"Do I look hideous like this?" Chip asked, examining his old, failing body and remembering what and who he used to be.

John shook his head. "No, I think you look pretty good."

"Bless you, John. You really are sweet." Chip smiled and sighed, patting John on the back before he stiffened himself up. "Well, here I go. Good-bye, John." He walked off towards the others.

"Good-bye, Chip. Good luck." John whispered, shaking his head, slowly following after.

Chip joined them, presenting himself to the mistress as a willing, welcoming host while Sherlock tried not to stare at him too much. Chip briefly turned to Sherlock and smiled. "See you on the other side." Chip whispered.

"Good-bye." Sherlock said as Cassandra took over Chip's body.

The Doctor looked up at Sherlock, wondering what was going on, but then he had to catch Rose as she fell over. He smiled at her, seeing her well and back to normal once more, and Rose smiled as well, reunited with the Doctor.

Cassandra complained, of course, being in Chip's body and then she realized that Chip was dying. Sherlock and John nervously watched, worried that she might still be able to travel out of him, while the Doctor glanced half askance at them.

But Cassandra-Chip sighed and tilted her head as if listening to a voice inside of her. "Chip makes a very persuasive argument. You boys had a hand in this, of course?" Cassandra-Chip asked, glaring at Sherlock and John. "Outsmarted me again, didn't you?"

"Sorry." Sherlock and John said as the Doctor frowned.

"Oh, don't blame them overmuch, it was Chip's fault as well. He knew what he was getting into, he suggested it. They went along with it as it was perhaps the best way out. No need to carry on much and shout."

"I'm very sorry about this, Cassandra, Chip." The Doctor said. "If there's anything I can do for you both-"

"Actually, there is one last request I make, that we both make on my behalf." Cassandra-Chip said.

And so they all found themselves at Cassandra's party many years ago, staring across the room at the younger, human version of her. "Well, this is it, this is good-bye. Thank you all for letting me and Chip have a wonderful time. It was a blast." She smiled gleefully and blew a kiss at all of them. "Good-bye now, and good luck."

They said good-bye, too, as Cassandra-Chip made her way across the room to confront her younger, former self, telling her how beautiful she was. And then she collapsed, dying in Cassandra's arms as Rose, Sherlock, John and the Doctor left the party in the TARDIS.

They sighed as they stood around in the console room, staring at each other after the strange, strange day that they had. They opened their mouths a few times, about to say something, and then they shut it, still thinking about everything that had just happened.

"Well, that was…unusual to say the least." The Doctor managed to say.

Sherlock nodded. "You said it."

"I think it was…" John hesitated, glancing at the Doctor. "Was it the best choice we could've made?"

"The best one, I suppose." The Doctor sighed, acceding the point. "Though it could've lasted longer."

"Maybe it was long enough." Rose slowly nodded, staring at the Doctor. "Well, I suppose I'll go freshen up." She turned around and left the console room.

"Rose, wait a minute." The Doctor said, going after her, leaving Sherlock and John alone in the room.

Sherlock and John stared at each other across the room, smiling. "Do you suppose she and the Doctor…" John started to say.

"I wouldn't put it past them." Sherlock grinned, coming around the console to meet him. "Just like I wouldn't put it past us."

They embraced and kissed each other in the middle of the console room, reunited at long, long last.

* * *

Several days went by as Sherlock and John spent a lot of time together, as did Rose and the Doctor, sneaking off into the depths of the TARDIS whenever they could. The individual party members might occasionally cross paths, grin shyly at one another, and then sneak off again to meet their respective partner.

And so it went until the Doctor got it into his head to go see Ian Drury in Sheffield in 1979. John and Rose were excited enough, singing along and beating out the beat to a song, but Sherlock was less than over-enthused.

"I would rather go to any of those times and places you mentioned, Doctor, than to go see Ian Drury in Sheffield."

"Oh, don't be a spoilsport, Sherlock! Everyone has voted, and you've been outmatched." The Doctor said.

"Come on, it'll be exciting, I promise you." Rose said.

"Please, for me?" John said, smiling pleadingly up at Sherlock.

"Fine, but I won't like it." Sherlock sighed.

The others laughed, though, and he followed along as they went out of the TARDIS right into a circle of Redcoat soldiers aiming their rifles at them. Everyone raised their hands, a little nervous as they were questioned and the Doctor employed a Scottish accent.

"Don't say anything, Sherlock." John hissed at him.

"What, like I told you so? Please, you underestimate me." Sherlock said, half grinning as John rolled his eyes.

The Doctor glanced askance at them as he introduced himself and the others, "Miss. Rose Tyler, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and Dr. John Watson, late of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, of London."

"Why aren't you with the Fusiliers in Afghanistan then?" The soldier in charge asked.

"Enteric fever, very nasty," The Doctor said. "Just got back."

"Yes, that's right. Came up here for rest and recovery with my friends and niece." John said as Rose nodded.

"Why didn't you say so? I'm always honored by the loyal service of our soldiers. Let them approach." A regal voice said from a carriage halted nearby that the others had barely noticed when the soldiers commanded their attention.

The soldier in charge grimaced, but eventually relented and the carriage was opened, revealing Her Majesty Queen Victoria. The others quickly bowed and curtsied, though Sherlock had to be prompted, but John compensated with a deep one. "Ma'am." John said.

Queen Victoria smiled as the Doctor presented his credentials, upon which she pronounced that he, Dr. John Watson, and Sherlock Holmes were her Protectors.

"Really? Rest and recovery and protecting? We seem to be quite busy this trip." The soldier in charge, Reynolds, remarked.

"Well, multitasking, got to keep busy and combine everything together. Can't sit around all day long, especially when you've got a duty to perform." Sherlock grinned. "Might I ask about the details of that tree falling onto the tracks? I sometimes work with Scotland Yard to solve cases."

Reynolds relayed some of the details as John remarked, "You must be very brave, ma'am."

"One must always be brave. I quite like you, Dr. Watson. You remind me of a friend." Victoria smiled.

"I am honored, Your Majesty, to be thought of that way."

Rose coughed a little and the Doctor rolled his eyes, as Sherlock studied Victoria and John. Reynolds reminded Her Majesty they had to get moving, as the Queen commanded they should come with her.

"I'm afraid there's no room for all of you in my carriage, nor extra horses, so you'll probably have to walk. However, Dr. Watson, I would hate for an old soldier like you to suffer another fever bout. Come sit by me in the carriage and we'll get you warmed up, as freezing cold as it is out here."

John hesitated, wanting to decline, but that seemed suspicious and it was a royal request. "Yes, thank you, ma'am."

He climbed into the carriage, throwing one last desperate glance at Sherlock and the others, who simply waved him off as the carriage door closed. The carriage lurched off, leaving John alone, pressed up against Queen Victoria.

John cleared his throat. "By the way, ma'am, I forgot to ask, what friend do I remind you of?"

Queen Victoria sighed. "Well, he's a servant as well as a friend, but a deeply loyal one who's stood by me for years. I'll see him soon at Balmoral, a Mr. John Brown."

"Oh, John Brown." John said through a fixed grin as she rested a hand on his knee. "How far away is Sir Robert MacLeish's estate?"

"About ten miles, probably another couple hours or so. Plenty of time for conversation." She squeezed his knee tight.

"Oh, good." John said, his heart sinking even lower. "What's the name of his estate?"

"Torchwood House." Queen Victoria said.

"Torchwood House?" John gasped.

"What, does that mean anything?"

"No, nothing at all." He managed to say, wondering what was going on.

"Torchwood House is an ancient estate. It's been in MacLeish's family for hundreds of years, ever since his clan moved into the area." Queen Victoria continued, her hand slipping up.

"Really? Fascinating," John carefully nudged his hand against Her Majesty's hand. "Oh, pardon me."

"Not at all," She extracted her hand, but smiled at him nonetheless.

* * *

Meanwhile, the Doctor, Rose, and Sherlock walked together just behind the carriage amongst the soldiers. "I wonder what's going on in there." Sherlock murmured.

"Well, she was a widow mourning for her Prince Albert throughout the rest of her life, wasn't she?" Rose said. "Mind you, though, that movie Mrs. Brown…"

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock asked.

"Mrs. Brown was a crude joke that Queen Victoria had an intimate relationship with one of her servants, a Mr. John Brown who served her at Balmoral." The Doctor said.

"John Brown? Oh dear John," Sherlock shook his head, glancing up at the carriage.

"Hopefully he'll be all right. Maybe nothing much will happen if she's…" Rose hesitated to say anything more. "Maybe he can take care of himself."

"She's a queen, after all, that's intimidating and possibly alluring." Sherlock said.

The Doctor frowned. "She won't take advantage of him, not under my watch."

"That might hurt his pride as well if you try to step in, and then we'd be in trouble with her. Possibly with him, too." Sherlock sighed. "I'm sure he might appreciate it, but let's leave them alone for now, and hopefully nothing will come of it."

"All right, but I'll keep my eye on things." The Doctor said.

"Thanks." Sherlock nodded.

"Hang on a minute, possibly alluring?" Rose asked, staring at Sherlock. "What does that mean?"

Sherlock sighed. "I hadn't been certain, but then John met Sarah, and though he tried to deny it, he was attracted to her as well. I think he's a bit more fluid than I am in that regard."

"Ah, I see, and you're not jealous?" The Doctor asked.

Sherlock shrugged. "I'll admit the proposition unnerves me somewhat that John might not be completely happy with just me alone. But then again, if push comes to shove and he really needs that…I might be willing to accept sharing him. If she's nice for him as well."

"Wow, Sherlock, that's really mature." Rose nodded.

"Thanks, but I still get first dibs on him." Sherlock grinned mischievously.

"Of course you do." Rose rolled her eyes.

She and the Doctor started talking about Queen Victoria and betting she could get the Queen to utter a famous phrase. Sherlock even joined in, betting against Rose.

"The stakes just got higher." Rose grinned.

* * *

Inside the carriage, the queen continued to lecture and chat about Torchwood House, the MacLeish family, the clans of the area and the stories they told, including that of wolves. She got out her journal and started writing a little.

John sat there listening, bored for the most part, but he smiled, acted politely, and tried to ask as many questions as he could to keep up his conversation. Occasionally her hands did wander and she tried to nestle against him, but he tried his best to discourage without upsetting her.

He glanced once at her journal and looked away. "Is that a sketch?"

"Mmm-hmm, I do a little drawing now and then as well as writing. Keeps the mind active."

"That's good." He said, wondering if she was starting to make a likeness of him.

* * *

Several hours later, the carriage finally pulled up in front of the estate, with Sherlock and Rose in particular dragging their feet, though the Doctor seemed pretty spry.

"That's certainly an impressive, if foreboding place." Rose said.

"Ten miles, hah! Felt like ten hundred." Sherlock groaned. "How did people manage traveling in these days?"

"They didn't really travel unless they had carriages and the like." The Doctor remarked.

"I hope my feet aren't bleeding." Rose grumbled.

"Ah, come on, fresh air and exercise, makes a body feel good! And we've got dinner to look forward to." The Doctor said.

"Whoop-dee-do." Sherlock said, glancing at Her Majesty's carriage.

* * *

Inside the carriage, John relaxed slightly as he saw Torchwood House come into view. "Well, ma'am, it has been a privilege and a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"The feeling is all mine." The Queen said, and suddenly reached over to snog John.

John gasped, caught unaware as she embraced him, and he quickly attempted to slip out of her grasp. "Ma'am, I really must say I have attachments elsewhere."

The Queen sighed. "I suppose that's to be expected with a handsome young man like you. But you do honor and serve your country as well."

"Yes, ma'am, but I honor and serve another as well. Excuse me, ma'am." He slipped out of the carriage before she could protest.

Sherlock and the others raised their heads as they saw John emerge, and slowly approached as he raced over. "Well, John, how did it go?" Sherlock said, examining his lover.

"Did she take advantage of you?" The Doctor said, obviously concerned.

John grimaced. "She did surprise me once, but otherwise, it was fine. Don't get upset. I learned a lot about this part of Scotland and Torchwood House, MacLeish's estate."

"Torchwood House!" Sherlock gasped as the others stiffened. "How can this be Torchwood House?"

"That's what she called it. I don't know why, what's the connection. It's been in the MacLeish family for centuries. She kept talking about the wolves as well." John shuddered. "She practically acted like a wolf at times, hounding me."

"Are you sure-" The Doctor had a threatening tone.

"No! Don't bother about it, it's all right." John insisted.

"Mind you, she did have nine children and was known as the Grandmother of Europe." The Doctor remarked.

"Now you tell me. She certainly was frisky." John said, and despite everything, Rose and Sherlock found themselves snickering.

"I'm sorry, it's just Queen Victoria-" Rose laughed. "I mean, can you even imagine?"

"I certainly can, and I would like to get that image out of my head now." John sighed.

"It's all right, John, you're safe. Come here." Sherlock said.

"No, not out in public, not where the Queen might see." John said. "I told her I had attachments, but I didn't tell her what kind. I assume she'll be very angry if she finds out it's you."

"That hurts my feelings." Sherlock pouted.

"As in 'we are not amused'?" Rose asked, grinning.

"Yes, that's right—what's going on?" John asked, turning to a grimacing Sherlock.

"We have a bet going against Rose that she can't get Queen Victoria to say 'We are not amused'." Sherlock said.

"Oh, well, that's just perfect! All right, Rose, deal me in, same amount for Queen Victoria saying 'We are not amused', because you know she won't be when she finds out about this!" John cried.

"Deal." Rose grinned.

* * *

Meanwhile, Queen Victoria had gotten out of her carriage and Sir Robert MacLeish greeted her, though he protested she should ride on. Sherlock glanced over and noticed some tension and fear in the man's body, which made him arch an eyebrow.

"Something's definitely wrong here. He's afraid, and not just for the Queen either. There's a threat hanging over him, and maybe for the ones he hold dear." Sherlock said.

The Doctor frowned as the others examined MacLeish. "Should we warn them?"

"What can we do if there are hostages, though?" Rose asked.

John sighed. "We should search for them and make sure they're all right before we can do anything. They must be close if their captors are monitoring Sir Robert."

"The wait-staff appears especially suspicious." Sherlock examined the bald servants flanking MacLeish.

The others agreed as Rose and the Doctor approached Queen Victoria and Robert, joking a little as Sherlock and John scanned their surroundings.

"You think they're upstairs or down?" John asked.

Sherlock glanced up. "Downstairs, possibly. I think the observatory might limit how much space there is to hold hostages."

"Right," John said as the Doctor inquired to the properties of a box the soldiers were carrying in.

"Must be very important or valuable." Sherlock murmured.

"Stay on your toes, gentlemen." John advised Reynolds and the other soldiers. "Maybe have a look around, possibly downstairs?"

The soldiers scoffed and dismissed his words as John and Sherlock hurried to follow the others, but one of the servants eyeballed John and glanced at his associate, who nodded. The servants followed close behind Robert MacLeish and their party all the way up to the observatory, another slog for those who'd been walking all this way.

It was a beautiful old room full of odds and ends, covered up in sheets and dust with birds roosting above, and of course the Doctor was enchanted by it, especially the telescope.

"An observatory that doesn't observe." The Doctor remarked.

While he examined it, Sherlock and John kept glancing back nervously at the servants while Rose attempted to elicit a response from the Queen, odd behavior all around. The Queen seemed to tolerate them, though, especially as she kept glancing back at John as well.

"It's hopeless, we're not going to be able to do anything here." Sherlock grimaced at John. "Why don't you try to get the Queen alone and warn her?"

"Me? Why me?" John asked.

"Well, she likes you, naturally."

John groaned. "I hate this, you know I do."

"Well, what else can we do at this point? The servants keep hanging around otherwise."

The Doctor tried to engage MacLeish to tell them about the local wolf, but one of the servants interrupted, saying they should rest before dinner. Victoria agreed, and asked Sir Robert if he had any old uniforms that might fit Dr. Watson.

"I think he would look good in a tartan kilt." Victoria remarked, causing John to blush.

"Get her alone." Sherlock hissed at John as they were led out and separated.

* * *

An hour or so passed as they got ready, John miserably dressing up in tartan kilt with uniform as Sherlock spiffed up slightly, though grimacing. The Doctor meditated as Rose browsed clothes, and discovered a servant hiding.

Rose and Flora snuck out just as Sherlock did, and they met in the corridor. "What are we going to do?" Rose asked.

"Alert the soldiers, go downstairs, free the others." Sherlock said until they came across an unconscious soldier. "Unless they're ahead of us already."

At once, the servants attacked and abducted Rose and Flora. Sherlock attempted to fight back, but he was knocked out and dragged away.

"Sherlock?" John said, sticking his head out of his room a minute later as he could've sworn he heard him.

He glanced around, wondering where Sherlock and the others were, and walked down the corridor. He knocked on a door, hoping it was one of theirs, but instead Queen Victoria answered.

"My, my, what a handsome soldier you are, Dr. Watson. Are you here to escort me to dinner?" Victoria grinned as she looked him up and down.

"Uh, ma'am, that is, I was looking for my friends, but since you asked, I would be happy to escort you downstairs if I can find the way."

"Of course, my brave, handsome doctor. Lead on." She grabbed his arm and they walked down the corridor.

"Ma'am, have you noticed anything strange at all about Sir Robert's behavior or that his remaining servants all appear to be shave-headed, like monks?" John asked.

"I know there's a monastery nearby, but what are you implying?" The Queen asked.

"The tree that fell upon the tracks, that can't be coincidence. And if they knew you would seek shelter here, ma'am, with Sir Robert, they might press upon him to…betray you. Possibly by threatening his family."

"Oh, Dr. Watson." Victoria patted his hand. "I thank you for your concern and that you're looking out for me as my Protector, but surely such a conspiracy would be extravagant to say the least. They might know my movements, but why haven't they acted upon me before now? The moors would've been isolated enough and they could've ambushed us as soon as we arrived. So why have they waited?"

"Well, ma'am…" John hesitated, unable to come up with a good reason. "Possibly it might have something to do with the wolves Robert was trying to tell you about before his staff stopped him?"

"Honestly, Dr. Watson, a medical man like yourself shouldn't believe wholeheartedly in these old myths. They're fun to listen to, but no more than that." Queen Victoria smiled. "As for the monks, well, perhaps his staff does come from the monastery or are devout believers."

"Perhaps, but I've seen some strange stuff in my time." John told her as they entered the dining room, parted, and sat down with the Doctor, Sir Roberts and Reynolds.

"Nice kilt." The Doctor smiled.

"Shut up." John said.

The Doctor, meanwhile, asked Sir Roberts to tell his tale, which led to a discussion of supernatural fiction as Queen Victoria still mourned her husband's loss. For a moment, John was struck by a look of complete heartbreak, her lip quivering and a catch in her voice, on Queen Victoria's face.

Despite her lustful side, there was a certain amount of passion belying a depth of woe and grief. She thrust herself vigorously into everything she attended to for the fact that there was nothing else for her. Her husband had been her whole world, and his loss still affected her all these years later, searching for answers, comfort, relief and anything else she could find.

John felt for her then, for he'd thought he'd lost Sherlock forever several different times since traveling with the Doctor. But those had only been brief moments, and Sherlock was soon restored to him, healthy and well.

He couldn't imagine what it would actually be like to live, year after year, without Sherlock by his side. But he imagined it would devolve into much the state that Queen Victoria seemed to be in.

Sir Robert launched into his story, revealing that it was a werewolf the myths had been about, and then mentioned how the brethren at the monastery had hindered his father's investigation. Then the butler appeared to say Sherlock and Rose had been detained.

John and the Doctor shoved their chairs aside, standing up to face the butler.

"What have you done with them?" The Doctor demanded, but the butler didn't answer as he strode to the window and started chanting a Latin verse about 'the wolf god'.

"Oh, god, it's a full moon tonight!" John cried, realizing what was going on.

"Now, really, do sit down!" Queen Victoria declared, slamming her hand down, drawing everyone's attention. "I've heard enough nonsense from Dr. Watson of some conspiracy, but-"

"Ma'am, please listen." Sir Robert said.

Queen Victoria turned her head and stared at him. "What did you say?"

"Ma'am, please listen, because it's true." Sir Robert said, staring up at the butler. "There is a conspiracy. My wife and my staff are in danger-"

"How dare you, sir, threaten and betray your queen." Reynolds barked as John and the Doctor rushed for the door, with Sir Robert soon fleeing after them.

"What's your purpose?" The queen asked, staring at the butler.

The butler thinly smiled. "The throne, ma'am."


End file.
